Inculabula
by Miranda Crystal-Bearer
Summary: What if Niko was not a saint, but a sinner? Cal's an abomination...but Niko's a monster. DARK AU of Nightlife, trigger warnings inside. Part of the Malum in Se universe.
1. Prologue: Monsters

**A/N:** I do not own Nightlife, Caliban Leandros, Niko Leandros, or any of the characters so contained in the works of the Cal Leandros series. These characters are owned by Rob Thurman.

I'm just borrowing the ideas for my own twisted games.

_What would happen if Niko was not a saint, but a sinner? What if Cal was an abomination...but Niko was a monster_? How would their lives be changed? It's a dark descent into the depths of depravity, dependence, hate, and abuse. Strap yourselves in tightly. It's going to be a violent ride.

**TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Physical and emotional abuse, self-injury, alcohol abuse, victim complex, murder, torture, non-consensual kissing, and overall misuse of Cal and total destruction of Niko's character.

I do not own the song used to start the chapter!

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**Nightlife** AU - _Inculabula_  
Part of the _Malum in Se_ universe

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_Inculabula_: From the Latin: _ab inculabulis_, or "from the cradle" or beginning. From the earliest stage or the very beginning of something.  
_Malum in se_: Evil in and of itself, an act that is considered wrong to commit.

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_**Prologue:** Monsters_

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_You love the way I look at you_  
_While taking pleasure in the awful things you put me through_  
_You take away if I give in_  
_My life, my pride, is broken_

_You like to think you're never wrong (you live what you've learned)_  
_You have to act like you're someone (you live what you've learned)_  
_You want someone to hurt like you (you live what you've learned)_  
_You want to share what you've been through (you live what you've learned)_  
-"Points of Authority," Linkin Park

* * *

I'm a monster. Let's get that down first, because it's true. An abomination, a breed apart, a blood-thirsty slavering _thing._

I'm not all human. I'm part Auphe. Elf if you want to be literal, but these sure as hell aren't your normal elves of fantasy. Oh no, these are the ones that would ride the mystical hunt down on your ass and eat you after they finished skinning you alive. Dig deep into the darker parts of mythology and you'll find the terrified rumors of the Auphe. Bloodlust and hate and carnage. Monsters with pale white skin and hair and dark jagged claws, a thousand metal fangs and murderous red eyes.

For the better, I look like my human mother. Sophia, she of the fortune-telling lies and the gold-gobbling greed. They paid her to have me, the monsters did. She agreed for the gold, but instead got stuck with me. I'm a beautiful monster, she told me, and hell if that wasn't true. She told lies to everyone else but she told me and Niko the truth. It hurt more, you see. She was a bitch that way. I've got her grey eyes, her dark hair, and her smoky-velvet voice; best of all, I pass for human on the outside. I've got all the right arms and legs, joints and organs, even if my skin is pale as pale and I can never get a good goddamn tan. Sucks to be me.

Niko, on the other hand, he looks nothing like Sophia. He took after his dad, a right sorry bastard who, while all human, was a monster in his own way. Niko's got the same grey eyes I do, but his hair is a pale Greek blonde and his skin a gypsy olive-tan; he's built like a Roman god with the nose to match. He's good looking and he's always got girls after him, but I love to give him hell over his nose. I mean, with a conk that big, who could resist? He tried giving me black eyes for it but gave up on that; I can out-stubborn him any day of the week, even when he beats my ass black and blue and broken.

Niko's a monster that way, but that's okay. He's a better man than I am; and what's better still, he's my brother. He loves me and he's stood by my sorry ass for years. He's kept me safe and he's kept me alive and so what if he's got a heavy hand when he's angry? It's nothing I don't deserve. I'm a monster, after all.

Monsters don't get a happy-ever-after.


	2. Chapter One: Begin

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I'm only playing games.

I do not own the song used to start the chapter! I confess, I do have a playlist on my iTunes marked as "_Malum in Se_ Universe" so expect lotsa songs picked for mood and appropriate lyrics.

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review on the prologue! And thanks to Comuteral as well!

Remember, reviewers, if you have something you'd like to see in the story (ideas, scenes, lines), holler it out! If I can't work it into the on-going plot, I'll write up an extra bit as a bonus.

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_**Chapter One:** Begin_

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_The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me  
__The renegade who had it made retrieved for a bounty  
__Never more to go astray  
__This will be the end today of a wanted man  
_- "Renegade," by Styx

* * *

Niko was home. I could smell him as I unlocked the apartment door. Engine grease and vodka fumes and the faded aftertaste of anger, along with Chinese takeout. I opened the door and slid inside, shutting it behind me as I kicked off my shoes.

"Sweet and sour chicken?" I asked, hopefully. I could smell it but it was possible he'd eaten it even though he knew it was my favorite.

Niko raised a pale blonde brow and pointed to the covered plate on the kitchen table. He was braiding up his hair, and it was damp. Either it'd been a dirty day at the shop or he'd been in a fight. Either was likely. I went to investigate the plate, which was full and made me a damn happy man. I shrugged off my leather jacket, hung it over the back of my chair, and settled down to eat without taking my guns off. I was starving after a long shift at the bar and nothing worth eating for breakfast this morning. Niko could exist on yogurt and bran cereal, but hell if I could.

At least Niko waited until I was halfway through eating to drop his bombshell. He finished braiding his waist-length hair and tied it off with an elastic. He flicked the whole thing over his shoulder with a careless, graceful flick of the wrist. "I caught an Auphe today."

I choked on my noodles, coughed it up, and stared in dismay at the chewed food on my plate. "Oh. Well." Cold ice shivered up my spine. "Hunting for me, huh?"

"I'm not sure. It didn't have a lot to say." That tone and that satisfied smile meant Niko had spent a while with his catch. Thus the freshly-washed hair: it got messy when he was having fun.

"Dammit." I poked at my food. I wasn't really hungry anymore. Nothing like a nice dose of fear, anger, and nausea to make you regret eating, even when you're nineteen and perpetually hungry. "Well, what's the battle plan this time, General Nose?"

Niko frowned briefly. He was one for a damn good poker-face, my brother, but I could always read it and knew how to catch the split-second flickers. That had been irritation for the jab about his nose. "I thought we'd ask around. See if others had been seen."

"Good." I stabbed some chicken. "I don't want to leave. I like New York."

A huge humming, bustling, _alive_ city where we were just another speck in the human population. Just another face. Sure, there were monsters here, a thriving nightlife humans only dreamed of in nightmares, but that just meant Niko and I belonged. Best of all, no Auphe. As far as we could tell, Auphe didn't like cities. They liked country, trees and nature, and the bigger the city we hit the fewer there were on our trail. I liked that and I just liked New York, the way life never stopped and there were enough holes that Niko and I could slip easily through the cracks.

A life with a gypsy mother taught you to stay clear of any and all authorities; that was just plain common sense and Niko and I had taken it to heart. The wanderlust we'd had our fill of. The staying out of sight, well, it was freeing. No-one bothered us. And it meant we could pull up stakes and run out of town if we needed to, leaving no trace. We'd lived all our lives like that, first with Sophia and then on the run from the Auphe. They wanted me, wanted to take me away from Niko. I didn't know why, and Niko swore it was only happening a second time over his dead shredded body. He'd _do_ it, too, stand and protect me until there was nothing left of him, and I didn't want that to happen.

He was my brother.

So, we'd made like bats out of hell and stayed a step ahead of the monsters.

It had worked pretty well, so far, but we were both tired of running. A lifetime was a long time to travel if neither of you had a gypsy's restless feet. Besides, we'd spent two whole years in New York, and goddamn if I hadn't got used to it.

Hot chili-cheese dogs with everything. That was a big deciding factor, too.

"I know you do," Niko replied, cooly. His deep baritone voice was smooth and cool, a contrast to mine. He was a radio announcer, I had the smoky tones of a porn star. Go me. "Which is why I want to make sure before we pick up and leave. I've got an interview with the antique car dealer tomorrow. I don't want to leave either."

Niko had a knack for any engine labeled "old as hell." He'd pretty much restored the engine of the 1960 Cadillac outside to decent running condition, though there were holes rusted through parts of the body and the seats were hell. He didn't expect it to last much longer and neither did I: we needed a better car and thus Niko's job opportunity. He worked a job at a chop-shop already but old cars paid better money. Me? Sure I did well enough serving drinks in a hole-in-the-wall bar, but even supplementing my income with pickpocketing tips from the customers I didn't make enough to buy groceries for a week. Especially not with the way I ate, anyway.

"Daaaamn. When's the interview tomorrow?"

"Before you get up, lazy monster," Niko sniped, and smirked. It was an old joke and meant before noon.

"Right. Don't wake me when you leave, bastard." Which he might anyway just for kicks. "Who're we asking and where do I meet you?"

"Well, I'll hit up Lilith and Marvin before I come home. Then we can go ask our resident Boggle together, I think." Niko chuckled a little. "After that, the usual human suspects." Lilith and Marvin were a succubus and an incubus, part of a motorcycle gang and Marvin worked with Niko at the chop-shop. Don't ask me how he passed because things that look and smell like snakes should be pretty damn noticeable, but he wasn't. Somehow.

"Right, so stay in bed until you come home. Gotchya." I grinned at him, but I couldn't hold the expression for long. I didn't want to leave. And I didn't want there to be more Auphe.

"You'll do your chores if you know what's good for you," Niko retorted, as he got to his feet. "We'll sleep in my room tonight to be safe. Bring your guns."

I nodded. Back to sharing a mattress and sleeping armed. Hot damn. Ever tried to sleep with a gun's muzzle digging into your ribs? Yeah, not fun. We set watches, sometimes, but Niko slept with one eye open and I didn't really ever sleep the whole night through. PSTD is a real bitch to live with, all those nightmares and panic attacks and goddamn insomnia. People just don't know how lucky they really are, living normal lives. I looked down at my chicken and sighed mournfully. I wanted to eat it but with my luck it'd just come back up again, my stomach all twisted up with nausea.

"I'm going to brush my teeth first. And shower, I smell like puke." Working in a bar was not always great for me; I have a super nose, and while that means I can smell when Niko's hidden my chips in the cabinet or smell when he's angry, it also means I get walloped in the face with every other smell intensified. Puke to the third power? Nasty, nasty shit.

Niko made a noncommittal noise, and stayed in the kitchen when I got up. He'd clear up the kitchen, it was his night to do it.

I washed, I brushed my teeth, I cleaned up the laundry in the bathroom. I'm a good little monster, see, do all my goddamn chores. Niko liked a tidy house; too much filth when we were younger. I gotta say I did appreciate not being woken by things _biting_ me. Roaches are worse than ants, by the way, and don't get me started on rats, lice, or fleas. Ugh. If it ever turns out one of us is carrying the bubonic plague, guess who won't be surprised.

Yeah that'd be me, not surprised at all.

Niko went to brush his teeth while I got into his bed and arranged my guns. A pair of black Glock 30s, one to shoot and one to grow on. One on the floor, the other on the bedside table. Serrated Ka-Bar knife under the pillow, check. Niko's katana under the mattress, check. Niko's short sword under the pillow, check. Niko himself? Walking through the door right on schedule, check.

"Don't hog the blankets, Cal," he admonished and bent to kiss me on the top of the head, like he always did, hand on the back of my neck. He'd done it when we were little and he did it now. It was almost code now, _'I'll take care of you,'_ and I believed it. Who wouldn't, when their older brother told them that? He laid down and took the side facing the window. I took the side facing the door, and we fell asleep back-to-back.

I didn't stay asleep for long.

I had a nightmare. Same old shit. Same old Auphe-horror-gore-shit as always. My fucked up brain liked to let me know it was _still fucked up_ after four goddamn years.

I kicked Niko in the calf as I came awake, bolting upright in bed.

Niko came around with a curse and a ready fist. He knocked me out of bed and I had to lie there a moment on the cold floor, bracing against the familiar pain of the blow and Niko's voice, snarled with sleep and anger as he cussed me out. After a few minutes I crawled back in the bed, rubbing my stinging cheek. It was bruising, I could tell. It'd look real damn pretty in the morning.

With a sigh, Niko pushed at my shoulder. I laid down again and he pressed up against my back.

I stared at the closed bedroom door in the dim twilight of the streetlights.

It was going to be a long damn night.


	3. Chapter Two: Remember

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I'm just playing games. I do not own the song used to start the chapter; I suggest loading it up and only starting to play it about the time Cal goes to bed in the flashback, for best audio-visual effect. (There's an eight-minute loop version on youtube that is excellently perfect for this purpose, under the title of "Secret of Mana - Dark Lich Battle Theme The Oracle.")

For those really curious, Niko's original motorcycle in this chapter was a 1964 Indian Chief in black. The car is a 1960 Cadillac Deville in mauve and rust. (The tail-fins!)

Long chapter ahead!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review of the last chapter! Thanks also to Comuterale for reviewing!

Remember, I take song suggestions and plot suggestions. Drop a review and let me know what you have in mind!

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_**Chapter Two:** Remember_

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"The Oracle," from the SNES Secret of Mana soundtrack

* * *

Apparently I did manage to fall asleep again. I woke up alone in Niko's bed, with his smell all around me and a post-it note stuck to my forehead. I pulled it off and squinted blearily at it. My eyes felt full of sandpaper. The note reminded me of chores, books to be returned to the library, and doing my fuckin' stretches. Fucker. I made his bed, collected guns and knife, and went to get something to eat. Here was to hoping Niko had gone shopping yesterday.

He _had_ and I was a happy monster. I could make the best goddamn pancakes this side of Queens, let me tell you! With pancakes and orange juice, I was golden. I still had to do dishes, run the laundry down, clean my guns, and return the books but hell, that was an easy list. He was in a good mood, or he had been when he'd left. Signs of a good day. I finished breakfast and went and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Helluva bruise on my right cheek. Did I try to cover it up or leave it?

I left it. It was swollen still and I had a readymade excuse. I worked in a bar, after all. Fight last night? Oh yeah, it was bad, broke two chairs.

I could lie with the best of them.

That was the difference between me and Niko. I'd lie like hell even if I knew no-one was believing it. Niko, on the other hand, lied by omission until he was caught, and then he'd tell the truth. And he'd tell it with a smile.

Rounding up the laundry and then doing the dishes left me too much time to think. Left me too much time to remember. I ended up thinking over the dream, the nightmare, the memory, the flashback, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. Thinking about it gave me chills and made me feel shaky. Hello, mental trauma, let's play a game. How much can Cal take before he has a screaming breakdown _again_? Let's find out! I swear, sometimes I think I must be a goddamn masochist, or just plain _crazy_ for playing chicken _with my own mind_. Yeah.

It started pretty much the same damn way as always. Four years ago, we were leaving Sophia.

* * *

Leaving Sophia. Why? Because Niko was of legal age at last and was sick of staying with her. She treated us both like shit and they fought like hell. Besides, Niko didn't like the way she treated me and figured I was better off with him. Talk about your pot calling the kettle black. Not that I didn't want to go live with Niko; hell I wanted it so bad it hurt to think about. But better? Even then I knew it was a choice between the frying pan and the fire. I'm not stupid, or cowed, or whatever the hell people seem to think I am. I know I've got it bad, but guess what? I'm a monster, and this is the life I live. I deserve it.

Niko had traded in his much-adored Indian Chief motorcycle about six months back and gotten an ancient 1960 Cadillac. It was a sucky trade in and I knew it. We'd worked hard to get the same thing running and we were really hoping it would make it to where we were going. Niko had a college offer and a downpayment on an apartment. He was doing good for himself, damn good, but it was all for me. He wanted to bring me with him. His monster brother. How I'd fit into a college town I had no idea, but if Niko wanted me there, I'd go.

He'd practically raised me, after all. Sophia hadn't done a damn thing, other than made money to spend on booze and drugs. Niko had started stealing it to buy diapers and formula at the grand old age of four. Four and saddled with a baby monster and a mother who could care less. Niko'd survived and so had I, and if we were both a little damaged, well, who the hell could blame us?

I was packing, shoving what little I owned into garbage bags. Nothing like that fresh-scented plastic aroma to do your Salvation Army style wardrobe a freshening up. Yeah so I owned shit but hey it was mine. And I was keeping it. Clothes and a few books, a set of throwing knives Niko had got me, and the old Gameboy I'd won in a poker game. Niko would be driving: I'd get to play Tetris and Pacman as much as I wanted without getting it taken away. Niko could be a real dick sometimes, but isn't every older brother? Hell, you can't tell me different.

I was packing, and Sophia and Niko were going at it again. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, thud of blows on flesh...it was nothing new. It sounded like she was threatening to call the cops on us if Niko didn't pay her back what he'd stolen from her earlier this month. Niko was laughing-mad, asking her how the hell she could do it without a working phone or without getting herself arrested. Wrong thing to say to the angry drunk woman, but it was true. I winced as another glass shattered and tied the garbage bag shut. I was more surprised that there was anything to actually break in this crappy old trailer than I was at the howled string of curses in Rom and English.

Niko and I only spoke a smattering of our mother's mother-tongue, but we knew all the curse-words.

English was good enough for me anyway. Enough cuss words for everyone and then some.

Sophia had landed us in the trailer about two months ago. She'd run out of money and into some trouble in the one-horse-town we'd been in, so she'd made her escape out here. I had no idea who owned the land and I doubted she did either. It was fine, sure, nobody around for miles. It got dark as hell out here, too but that wasn't what freaked me out. No, what freaked me the hell out were the Auphe. Of course, I hadn't known that name then; we'd called them Grendels. Niko had come up with that: he'd read _Beowulf_ in sixth grade and immediately named my stalker-monsters Grendels. Something dark and nameless that watched at night, with glowing red eyes that floated in the dark. And way out here in the country? There'd be not just one, not just two, but dozens of those glowing red eyes, watching in the dark.

It was enough to make the breath freeze and fracture in your lungs, like breathing with broken ribs.

The fight was over. Niko appeared in my doorway. He had a cut on his temple and he was licking the blood off his fingers.

"Ready to go, Cal?" he asked, with a smile. Fighting put him in a good mood, especially if he won.

"Caliban. Sure." I'd decided I wanted to be called my full name. After all, I was a monster. Niko persisted with Cal, though. God only knows why.

"Right, monster. Let's get your bag and go." Niko darted at me, and I lunged to the right. He grabbed me around the waist, easy as breathing. I kicked and bit him on the upper arm. He laughed and set me down again. "Good. C'mon now."

We'd always scrapped, but ever since Niko had been ten and old enough to lie his way into taking martial arts classes, it had taken on a more formal kind of air. Sometimes, though, we still just tussled, kicking and biting and scratching like puppies or, well, monsters. He grabbed up my garbage bag and we headed out to the car. Sophia was nowhere to be seen. Just as well. Once she'd been a beautiful woman, sure. I'd seen pictures. But years of hard living, alcohol, and greed had changed her. She looked shopworn and rundown now, and even her voice was going, turning into something like hag's. Especially with all the screaming at Niko she did. Me, she didn't scream at me, she just threw things or slapped me. Once she tried to hit me with an iron skillet. I was glad to leave her. I followed Niko outside into the sunshine. Bare feet and thick summer grass and the smell of engine oil. Niko tossed my bag into the backseat, and slammed the rusted door. The window rattled and cracked and we both gave it a wary look. Great.

It was obviously a bad sign. As Sophia would have put it, an ill omen.

The damn car did not start.

Niko went under the hood and stuck me behind the wheel and together we tried to get the thing to fuckin' _start_ already. We worked for hours and the sun crept lower and lower. At last Niko found the disconnected tubing and fastened it back. He scowled at the worn fanbelt.

"Just our luck it'd break and we'd be stuck in the middle of goddamn nowhere," he sighed, and wiped his hands on his shirt. "Fuck."

Niko actually didn't swear often. Only when he was _really_ pissed. I got out of the car slowly as he shut the hood with a loud slam. The corners of his mouth were pinched and he smelled angry. He looked at me, and my spine stiffened, but he only touched the back of my arm. He pinched and twisted till the tears started in my eyes, and then he let go and stepped closer to hug me. Instead of pushing away like any self-respecting fourteen year old, I leaned against his broad chest and rubbed the newest stinging bruise. He was pissed and I was disappointed as hell. I wanted to_ leave_. I was tired of the fighting and tired of being watched and at least when Niko hit me he had a reason. Sophia never did.

"One more night, and then we're gone," he promised into my hair. "I won't risk it in the dark."

The Grendels had never made a move but Niko was convinced they weren't just curious. It was another reason he wanted to get me out of the country. The red eyes unnerved him just as much as they did me, but he got angry too instead of just scared. That was Niko all over; he didn't ever seem to know when to be afraid. But that was a good trait in an older brother, especially one to a monster like me.

So when Niko turned to shuffle me into the house I paused. "Hey. Toothbrush."

He snorted and thumped me on the back of the head. "Good boy. Let's get those and hunker down in this shithole one more time. Then we'll get out of here."

I believed him. He was my older brother, and he never lied to me.

Too bad the Grendels got there first.

I brushed my teeth in the dark and headed for bed. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep. Not as all knotted up as I felt. Niko, on the other hand, came to bed, crawled over me, and as far as I could I could tell, went to sleep the second he hit the mattress. Only Niko. I fidgeted and twitched and when he elbowed me in the ribs that was my warning. Get up or get trashed. So I got up, and paced around in the dark, being as quiet as possible. Niko slept on and didn't move. I watched him, for a moment, listening for any sounds that said Mom might be up. Nothing.

Nothing, except for a quiet tap-tap on the window.

It wasn't a scary sound. Hell, it was familiar, a sound I'd heard a dozen times: friends, Niko, tapping on the window. "Hey, wanna go have fun?" It was so natural that for a minute I forgot I didn't have any friends here, way out here. So I looked up.

No friends...only monsters.

The Grendel framed in the cold silver moonlight was haloed by its white drifting hair, fine as milkweed down. The glowing red eyes spilled crimson light over a thousand metal fangs, sharp as needles. A long thin-boned hand splayed against the glass, tipped with curving ebony sawtoothed talons. I'd seen the eyes, knew they were pale, but I'd never been so close, seen the elongated bones and inhuman joints, the smooth skin and barely-there slitted nose. It was hideous, it was horrifying, it was the beauty of destruction at its finest. It smiled and bared even more of those fangs.

Holy mother of fuck, my mom had mated with _that_?

"Mine," it rasped, in perfect English, its voice the oily slick of a serpent's hiss around the wet crunch of gargled glass. There was greed in its eyes, satisfaction in its tone. "Mine."

I couldn't move, frozen stiff with terror. Something in the back of my brain was screaming that_ if I moved_ it was going to _eat me_. Humans still remember, way back in their hindbrains, that we were once _prey_. I even stopped breathing, heart thudding frantically against my chest. It was going to get me _going to get me_ and it wanted me and oh fuck I was going to die wasn't I?

In a lightning flash, the Grendel shoved its arm through the glass and grabbed me around the throat, nails digging deep into my flesh. I shouted and wrenched backwards, powered by pure terror and adrenaline. The monster flowed through the broken window and followed me to the floor, claws scoring hot ribbons along my throat. Niko bolted up in bed, swearing, and the Auphe _laughed_, a bone-chilling poison sound.

"Time to go home, flesh of my flesh," it whispered to me, and licked me on the cheek. I screamed and bucked, and in a flash it was off me. Niko landed on the floor, a knife in hand, and the Grendel laughed again. Framed between them I tried to get up, get to _Niko_ but the Grendel grabbed me, throat and thigh and _threw me through the fuckin' window_.

I hit hard in broken glass and grass, and for a hazy moment I couldn't even move, swimmingly close to blacking out. Niko was calling my name, but he sounded almost underwater, fuzzy and distant and cold. Clawed hands knotted in my hair, wrenched me up, grabbed my arms. Grendels, everywhere, dozens of them, all glittering teeth and malevolent red eyes. I struggled, fought, and when I called for Niko I saw it; the trailer was on fire. Burning leaping flames. Sophia was screaming. I was screaming. I couldn't see _where was Niko?!_

The Grendels had done something to the air: a writhing pulse of corpse-grey light, that split and opened and pulled and they were disappearing into it. They were taking me away. One Grendel laughed by my ear. "Welcome home, my spawn."

It was a gate to Hell, and they took me through it kicking and screaming for Niko.

* * *

I decided I'd go sit in Niko's room in the corner and shake a little while before I went out to return the library books. But I hadn't had a panic attack yet. I just needed to go sit down and get to feeling better before I faced the public crowds. Niko had told me that was always a good option to take whenever I could. So I sat in his room for a good half-hour with my gun in hand and his smell all around me. That helped; helped me remember Niko was alive. He hadn't died, not by the Auphe and not by the fire. He'd escaped and he'd waited for me. Against all hope, against all reason, he'd sat and waited for me for two whole days.

I say waited because against all hope, against all reason, I came back.

I don't remember that much. I really don't remember the months I spent nearly catatonic, traumatized stupid, but Niko does and he's showed me the scars up and down his arms where I clawed and bit him whenever he tried to handle me much. I say I don't remember much, well, that's because it comes back sometimes in dizzying dreams and I wake up scared stupid again. Sometimes, what's worse, I dream about the Auphe, and where they took me, and I wake up screaming. I never remember much of those, and it's not something I fish after. Hell, if it had got me so bad I can't even sleep _now_ and for months I didn't so much as _say a word_ to Niko and even broke two of his fingers, then it was pretty goddamn bad. Best to leave that shit alone.

I did remember 'waking up' in Atlanta, Georgia, with Niko talking to me and telling me he was pretty sure time had been different wherever I'd gone because I was older; he'd been brushing my hair and pulling it back into a ponytail for me and we were sitting in the summer sunshine on the grass. He'd tugged on my ponytail, I'd tipped my head back to look up at him, and called his name - my voice had felt rusty and disused.

One of the few times I've ever seen Niko cry.

He'd hugged me and on pure reflex I'd bitten him to the blood.

Yeah that's pretty much how all our Hallmark moments go.

We're monsters that way.

But after about half an hour the shakes went away and I was okay. I holstered my gun, put on my jacket, and gathered up the library books. Some were for me, some were for Niko: mythology, mystery, fantasy, military history, westerns... Hey I like my Westerns. No flesh-eating monsters, just bad men. And hot babes. Niko was back on a research binge, thus the fantasy books. People seemed to think that because my brother worked as a grease monkey he wasn't smart. Hell no, he's smart as they come. During the four years we were bopping around the country, Niko attended college via online classes, got himself a degree. He's also currently enrolled online with Oxford, I kid you not. Man's a genius, so I'm not sure why he sticks with me.

I've graduated highschool, through a series of complicated manipulations, but I don't want to go to college. Niko let me choose and I said no. I'm just not that great of a student, even with Niko's hard-as-hell homeschooling. Mister All-A's can kiss my ass. Niko was a little disappointed but he let it slide. He just makes sure we keep up on reading and learning. Says he won't let my brain rot. I asked him what good a brain was to a monster. He gave me a solid beating over that one and I haven't asked since.

I returned the library books, I did the laundry, and I came home to Niko throwing knives at our current pin-up-girl poster. He had scored one right on each nipple tassle. "Good taste," I drawled at him, and set the laundry down on the table. "What's for lunch?"

"Tuna noodle casserole." Niko threw another knife, lying on the floor across the room from his target. If I ever got as good as he was... The knife thudded home right in the poster's right eye.

"Seriously? You didn't cook that, did you?" It didn't smell like it, so no, he hadn't.

Niko snorted. "No. Boss's wife brought it in. Eat up and let's go see Boggle. Lilith and Marvin knew exactly jack shit."

I ate up, Niko got off the floor, and we headed right back out. We hit up the subway; it was a long way from Queens to Central Park, but that was where we would find Boggle. There were a lot of creatures that still preferred every strip of greenery they could find. Hell, there was a hammadyrad in the pocket park two blocks down from where we lived. She didn't talk much; she didn't like me. Said I tasted bad when I walked on her dirt. She didn't like Niko much, either, after he'd carved a heart into her tree after she said that to me.

Boggle, though, he was a little more agreeable. Still held me in great distaste but he'd come chat us up. Especially if Niko insisted, which he would. We jogged through the park, one after another, Niko leading. He was an athlete like no other. Me? I tagged along and did what I could. Niko made sure I never fell too far behind. If we were on the run, then I had to be able to run. It wasn't as if I didn't have incentive.

A little swath of a path, and we ducked behind some ornamental shrubbery. Boggy lived here, in a patch of slimed sludge that was thick and deep. A mudhole only a pig could love...or a boggle. I went to the edge and crouched.

"Hey, Boggy, rise and shine. It's us again." I grinned. "I know you're in there. I can smell you."

Two soft-ball-sized orange eyes blinked open from the mud. "Yeah. I know. Asshole. What do you two jerks want?"

"Just a talk," Niko answered, idly, and raised an eyebrow. "Care to oblige?"

Boggle grunted and stood, mud cascading off his hide. He was almost nine feet tall, crusted mud and dark scales, with claws a good ten inches long on each platter-sized hand, serrated black teeth in a mouth wide as his head. A predator, a giant murderous monster, a man-eater. He smelled like mud and rotting flesh and something reptilian. I don't know how old Boggle was; old enough, old as New York itself and older still. He had a horrible New Yawk accent, at any rate.

"Sure. Chat. Shoot the breeze." He shrugged. "I can do that. What do ya wanna know?"

"There was an Auphe in Kissena Park yesterday. What was it up to?" Niko asked, calmly.

"Didn't you ask it?" Boggle returned. He shifted a little, almost a flinch, when Niko smiled slow and wide and with every tooth on display. Niko's "sadistic psycho killer" smile had that effect on everyone. Without exception. Most people never stopped to wonder if he meant it - which he didn't, really, the only thing he killed was monsters. But Boggle _was_ a monster. Boggle shrugged his sloping shoulders. "Yeah. Probably nuthin'. Murder. Mayhem. You know how elves are."

"Oh, we know." I smiled and Boggle leaned back. We had a_ reputation_ and he believed it. "So, in other words, you know shit. That it, Boggy?"

Boggle grumbled. "It was probably just passing through. They ain't urban like I am."

I looked at Niko. Niko looked at me, then shrugged minutely. Right then. We believed Boggle for now.

Of course, since we were at the park, Niko couldn't resist some extra training. Which meant I ran my ass off for another half-hour before spending a full hour sparring. Niko could wipe the floor with me any day, and today was no exception, though I did leave two whole marks on him; I dislocated a finger by accident and gave him a bruised set of teethmarks on his forearm. He still sat on me at the end and wouldn't let me up until I admitted he was the king of ass-kicking. Bastard.


	4. Chapter Three: Foresee

**A/N:** I do not own anyone belonging to the Cal Leandros series. I'm just borrowing them. I do not own the song used to start the chapter.

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her super-prompt review of the last chapter! Thanks also to Yellow, the faithful Comuterale, and halesgirl101!

* * *

_**Chapter Three:** Foresee_

* * *

_I see what's going down_  
_Cover up with makeup in the mirror_  
_Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again_  
_You cry alone but then he swears he loves you!_  
-"Face Down," Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

* * *

After my thorough humiliation at the hands of Niko, we went to check out one last source of information: George. Normally, we wouldn't have fallen in with the likes of her. Georgina was a seer. A fortune-teller. And the real goddamn thing. We'd grown up with Sophia, me and Niko, and we knew every trick in the book for scamming hopeful customers. And when we'd first met her, we'd expected no less. Sure she was a little young, all big brown eyes and tanned skin and red hair in pigtails. But as she'd stood there and talked to the old man whimpering about his lost dog, she'd done it with a ramrod spine and a soft expression on her face.

When the dog had showed up, I hardly believed it.

Okay, so, coincidence. Everyone gets one. But she had asked for no money, and she'd crossed to where Niko and I stood watching instead. Niko's hand had fallen on my shoulder as he'd pushed up beside me, imposing as hell. Protective as hell.

But George had smiled at him. "They aren't hiring this week. Try back next week, they'll want a night watchman." Then she had looked at me, tipping her head curiously, like a broken doll. "Caliban. That's a funny name."

Yeah she'd pretty much freaked the hell out of me.

It hadn't really gotten any better. If she could know my damn _name_ without being told, what else could she know? That I was a monster, that I wasn't human, that I still crawled into Niko's bed after I had nightmares like a goddamn three-year-old? Yeah no. I didn't enjoy her company and Niko didn't drop by often, either. We had enough secrets that didn't need telling, especially not to a seventeen-year-old psychic. We didn't look for her, but she'd showed up often enough over the two years we'd lived in New York, always with a smile and a suggestion for job opportunities. Like she'd freakin' adopted us. It creeped the hell out of me.

But we needed to know.

So we went to ask about the Auphe.

Niko had found the real name for our Grendels. Inspired by the time difference, the break in the world that had made me three years younger instead of five, he'd dug deep into mythology. He'd found the _aes sidhe_, the ayes-shee-uh, the fairy-folk of the Irish, beautiful and terrible, associated with death, dying, and a world apart. The world of graves and death. He'd started asking questions to every supernatural we'd met, and eventually it had gotten him an answer, whispered in terror. Not the _aes sidhe_, but the Auphe. A little like "off-fey," but rounder, tricky as hell to pronounce.

Except I'd gotten it on the first try. Like my tongue had known just the way to say it, and I'd felt sick and dizzy after. Like a flashback or something. Niko couldn't quite get my trick of accent and it annoyed him. I figured the Auphe had taught me how to say it right, and wasn't that a spine-shuddering thought?

I didn't know if George would be able to pluck _that_ name from thin air either.

It turned out I didn't need to worry.

George held shop in an old ice-cream parlour. I was betting she was the only reason it stayed in business; she wouldn't take payment but she would accept an ice-cream. It was a wonder she wasn't four hundred pounds wide. She greeted us with a smile, though, sweet and innocent as always, and spoke our names with childish pleasure.

I slid into the booth beside Niko. He put his hand on my knee and got straight to business. "We need a reading, George."

If she was surprised by the request, she didn't show it. We'd never actually _asked_ her for a reading.

"Well, of course," she said, sweetly, and smiled. Niko held out his hand, and she held hers over it. Her brown eyes drifted half closed...and then they flew open wide. She looked down at Niko's hand, then up at my cheek. There was shock and then pity there, and I knew she knew. She knew that hand had put that bruise there, not a fight at the bar, not a fall in the bathroom. She knew Niko had hit me.

She looked at him with sudden revulsion in her face.

And Niko? He stared back coolly, grey eyes all but daring her to comment.

Like I said, Niko never lied when he was caught. That was his twisted sense of honor.

I scooted closer to him on the seat. See? It was alright. I trusted Niko. I was here because I wanted to be. I even smiled at her. I didn't mind the bruise on my face, or the half-a-dozen fading ones on my arms that kept me wearing long sleeves year-round. It was only what I deserved. I was a monster.

"Should we stay or should we go?" Niko asked, serenely.

George's lower lip trembled. She was looking at me with pity now. Goddamn, I hated that.

"S-stay. They can't find you here," she managed, voice gone to a whisper. Then, "You, h-how can you...?"

Niko smiled at her, briefly. "Thank you, Georgina. Cal?"

"Yeah, thanks." I nodded at her and scooted out of the booth. Niko stood up, unfolding gracefully, and walked out the door. I followed him, and then I stopped to look back.

Georgina had her head on the table, buried in her crossed arms, and she was crying. Sobbing, the way her shoulders were shaking.

Niko's hand touched softly on the back of my neck, and he pinched the tender skin there, twisting it sharply to bruising, a reminder to keep up. I turned away and walked with my brother down the street, feeling yet another bruise bloom over the nape of my neck. I almost always had at least a dozen pinch-marks there; it was Niko's favorite place to mark me in public. It always looked affectionate, and really it was, just not in the way everyone else thought.

Niko waited until we were home to announce his decision. "All this 'stay' business makes me feel uneasy," he declared, crossing to the cabinet and pulling down a bottle of vodka. He took a long drink. "I think we should clear out of town for a few days. Maybe a week."

I shrugged out of my jacket and crossed to his side, reaching after the vodka myself. He let me have it and I took a drink. I liked the taste, I just didn't breathe while I was drinking it. "Yeah. George was lying, I think. I smelled something, but it was damn hard to tell. All that sugar in the air."

Most people got nervous when they lied. I could smell that; sweat and guilt. Most people, because hardened criminals and Niko didn't even bat a lash to lie. I was willing to bet I didn't either; too much practise. Niko took the vodka back from me and took another swig. He screwed the cap on and put it back.

Without warning he fisted a hand in my hair and pulled. I arched backwards, instinctively clawing at the air; he slapped my hand aside and stilled. I did too, neck hauled back until his fist was on my spine, throat bared and strained. I could hardly breathe, and rolled my eyes to look up at him. He was thoughtful, not angry, which made it easier to hold still despite the burning pain in my scalp.

"Giving in so easy, little brother?" he asked, softly, tenderly.

"You said...a few days," I managed, voice raspy from the angle. He was only testing - I'd said I wanted to _stay_ after all.

"So I did." He let go of my hair, cupped his hand to the curve of my skull instead as I straightened. "Go pack what you'll need."

"Yeah." I nodded, and let him rub the pain away, strong calloused fingers on my scalp. Temporary pain, and he stepped closer and kissed me gently on the forehead.

I went to go pack. We didn't have a lot of belongings, really; we still lived like we might need to throw everything in the car and make like bats out of hell. I shoved my stuff in my dufflebags, careful to pad the guns and knives. No need to damage anything in haste. I zipped my bags shut, and hopped to my feet. I went to see how far Niko had got in packing. He took a little longer, only because he had more weaponry. If it was a weapon in the history of human-kind, Niko had learned or was learning how to use it. He had bundles of really fuckin' wierd shapes to pack. As I walked in, he was lining up several swords on a length of green felt. He glanced briefly at me. I moved up behind him, put my socked toes over his bare ones, and reached down to tug at his long braid, curving to the arch of his spine; it was heavy and slick as a silk in my hand.

"Slowpoke."

"Mind your manners, monster," Niko returned, and tossed me an amused look.

"Yeah, yeah," I groused, and sank down to sit beside him, my knee against his. I reached out to touch a silvery blade, still unsheathed. Niko tsked at me.

"The acids and oils on human skin are damaging to the metal," he scolded.

"Yeah, and blood is that much better?" I retorted. I knew about keeping my knives clean; blood wasn't any better for them.

Niko smiled minutely at me. I shook my head, and scooped up his favorite pair of weighted gloves. He'd found a nasty little vendor creature who made loaded gloves that weren't exactly your traditional gloves. They looked like black leather, but there were studs for each knuckle and a plate across the back. Niko could - and had - dropped a charging bull with them. (We'd had some interesting adventures in the Bronx Zoo late one night.) But to put them on, they didn't feel that heavy... They were special gloves and Niko and I had really had to bully the crow-faced creature to sell them to us. Niko needed to replace them about every year... The gloves were too big for my hands. I tried them on anyway, flexed my hands. I didn't have any like them. I didn't want to get too close. Nope, I preferred to stand a good distance away and shoot things. I liked my guns, and I'd gotten a fair collection. The twin Glocks were my favorite, of course, but I had a nice 1911 Colt and a Desert Eagle, and a very nice Walther PPK.

Niko had his collection of pretties. I had mine.

When Niko held his hand out, I passed the fingerless gloves over. He pulled them on in quick, practised motions, fastened the straps at the wrist. "Go start the car, Cal."

"Sure thing, Nik." I got up and headed that way.

The car, still that ancient 1960s Cadillac, the rust-bucket I spent a lot of time moving from one side of the street to the other. Niko had taught me to drive, in that first year we'd run; taught me on deserted back roads and long stretches of desert highway. We'd been pretty much all over the country by now, between Sophia and the Auphe. Damn if that didn't sound like some sort of old saw. Between Sophia and the Auphe. Between a rock and a hard place. Yeah, sounded about damn right.

I unlocked the driver's door and slid in on the cracked leather seat. I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it.

Nothing happened.

This actually wasn't too unusual. So I didn't get worried. The damn thing had been cranky starting up yesterday, too. So I started my rundown of all the usual fixes. Between Niko and me, we'd done all the work on the car, so I usually knew how to coax it into running again...

After a full twenty minutes had passed and I still hadn't got it started, I went to tell Niko.

"Nik..." I poked my head in his room. He was zipping up the last bag and he raised a pale eyebrow at me.

"The car won't start." The words tasted bitter. It was not a good development.

Niko grimaced and followed me out again. I told him what I'd tried and he tried other things and wasn't until two hours had passed that we figured out the problem. We got the engine to crank (after pulling the dead rat from the exhaust) but it made a horrible noise. Somehow water had gotten into the oil and one of the pistons had broken. It was a job that would probably take a whole new engine to fix. Niko kicked the bumper and swore like a sailor. I did my own cussing too. So much for getting out of town for a few days.

We locked the piece of shit up and went back upstairs. Niko was pissed the _fuck off_ and I could smell it, thick and nasty. I headed for the living room while he shut the door. A little space might get him to calm down...

Oh who the fuck was I kidding? He snapped out a curse-word, right behind me, and as I turned his fist connected with my jaw. I only had time for one coherent thought: _Fuck, he's still wearing his gloves_. Then I was down and out and stayed that way for a while.

When I woke up, all the way up, it was dark and I was in Niko's bed, back-to-chest. I hated being spooned, I was too old for that shit. But when I moved, my head throbbed and my ribs declared they really didn't like that idea. I gave in to the bodily mutiny and stayed still. Breathing hurt. I took a deeper breath. Not broken, just bruised, and Niko's arm over my stomach shifted.

"Alright?" he asked, softly, the word puffing over the back of my neck.

"Ow. Yeah." I held very still. "You had your gloves on."

"I'm sorry. Are your ribs broken?"

"No. Hurt though." I grimaced and Niko kissed the back of my neck. The apology was for the gloves, not for the beating. I hadn't gotten one that heavy in a while; Niko had been in a good mood and I'd done my best to be a good little monster and mind my monster manners. Shit happened, though. That was my life; shit happened.

Niko went back to sleep. I stared at the wall and tried to find a place in my head where the pain wasn't so bad. It was going to be another long, long night.


	5. Chapter Four: Socialize

**A/N:** I do not own the Cal Leandros series or anyone belonging to it! I'm just playing games with them. I do not own the song used to start the chapter. Also, the insult Niko uses is actually a Romanian insult, though I don't think it's particular to the Gypsies.

Thanks to Kin-outcast1, Shibby14, halesgirl101, and Comuteral for your prompt reviews the last chapter!

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

* * *

_**Chapter Four:** Socialize_

* * *

_To the left and to the right, buildings towering to the sky_  
_It's out of sight, in the dead of the night_  
_Here I am again, in this city, with a fistful of dollars_  
_And baby, you'd better believe_  
_I'm back, back in the New York groove_  
- "New York Groove," Kiss

* * *

I admired my bruises in the bathroom mirror. My left side was black and blue from my armpit down to my flank. It was a fuckin' fantastic bruise; they showed up so clearly on me because I was pale-skinned. Niko barely bruised at all. Me, every bruise looked like a fuckin' disaster. Today was no exception. The one my jaw was mostly hidden by my hair worn loose and the ribs? Well. I pulled my shirt down. All better, except breathing hurt like a bitch.

I wanted to crawl back in bed and stay there for a while. Moving hurt.

Instead? I was going to work. Because I had a job and "sorry I feel like shit" was never going to be an acceptable work excuse unless you were rich enough to afford it. I wasn't. Niko was at work, I was heading into work a little early, and with any luck he'd stop by later and tell me what the goddamn plan was. Whether we were staying or going. He'd left before I'd even gotten up this morning, left me a post-it note with chores, and I hadn't heard from the bastard since. Don't get me wrong, he made me breakfast, but still, with the possibility of the Auphe hanging around I kinda wanted to be in on the battle-plan. Not a lot made me nervous but the Auphe made me nervous as fuck. I figured I had pretty good reasons for that, too.

But no battle-plan, no nothing, just me, the chores, and the late afternoon sunshine. I downed a couple aspirin to pretend I was helping the headache (aspirin didn't do fuck with me, and I wasn't sure I wanted to see how my part-Auphe system would take to anything stronger) and headed out to work, my Glocks and my serrated Ka-Bar knife my certain and sure friends.

I worked in a shithole bar for a guy named Talley. Yeah "tally-whacker" was one of the nicknames for him, though I don't think that was what he was really whacking in his office. Not with the way it smelled in there. But what did I care as long as he paid me? That's right, I cared not one fuck. He could be as perverted as he wanted in there as long as I got my cash at the end of the week.

I got there early and started setting up because I knew the other bartender - a walking talking Barbie doll named Meredith - was going to be late. And late she was. She bounced into the bar about an hour and a half after it was supposed to open. Not that we had more than one customer, and he was the regular, but still. As Meredith walked in I wondered how in hell she'd paid for all the plastic surgery if she worked in a bar like this and was always and forever coming in late and skipping out early. She was probably in debt up to her eyeballs.

"Hey Merry," I called, and smiled a little. She was at least vaguely nice to me, and she did like low-cut filmy things that barely qualified as tops. She smelled like cheap perfume and cheaper sex.

"Hey. Think the old man's noticed I'm late?" she asked, sliding up to the bar.

"Well, maybe," I drawled, and jerked a thumb towards the half-open office door. Meredith pouted, and I noticed her candy-red lips matched her candy-red fake nails. They also matched the scattering of sequins and shiny threads that made up her shirt...well, with that much skin showing, did it really count as a shirt? Nah.

"I guess I better go kiss some old withered ass," she sighed. "Wish me luck."

I chuckled. "With tits like those? Who needs luck?"

"Well," Meredith giggled, looking down at her own chest, "They are pretty delicious, aren't they." With another giggle and a shifting of her bra, she headed into the office. I watched her go. She was the only woman I'd ever met who stared at her own boobs with more fascination than your average perv. Well, if she wanted to waste all that good cleavage on our boss, that was her problem.

I heard the bar's door open and turned. The guy walking in looked too clean-cut to be coming in here, really, a big black guy with close-shaven hair, a goatee. Tattoo on his wrist, black leather jacket, friendly white grin. Uh-huh I wasn't buying it. "Hey," he said, and checked up only marginally in the face of no returning smile. Brave man.

"Hey. What can I get you?" I asked, giving him a tiny quirk of my lips, copied straight from Niko. A ghost-smile, not really there. I pulled a glass out and poured the man a soda; he didn't smell like alcohol at all, though he'd come into the bar.

He looked surprised, but took the glass. "Uh. Thanks."

"No problem. What can I get you?" I asked again, the ghost-smile now with a hint of teeth. He eyed me, and took a swing of his drink like he wished it was something a little stronger. I tended to have that effect on people.

"I'm with the band," he said, and tried again with the smile. Brave man, still. He got points for not scaring so easy. "I need the alley doors opened up so I can start setting up our equipment."

Band? First I'd heard of it. I raised my eyebrows. "I think you have the wrong bar. My boss won't even spring for decent cable, let alone a live band."

"Nope. This is the right bar." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Samuel, the guitarist."

After a moment, long enough to make him shift, I reached out and took his hand, shaking it firmly with a smile. "Cal. I'll have to check with the boss-man before I let you in. Just to be sure." He had callouses on his hands, hard and rough. I did too, but mine? Mine were from a more destructive hobby. "No hard feelings."

"No, I get ya. You're a careful one, huh?" he asked, back to cheerfully friendly. Hot damn, you couldn't keep him down. At least that might spice up tonight's shift.

"In this world, Samuel, you can't be too careful." I tossed him another grin and headed for the back. Talley did indeed confirm he'd hired the band. Meredith made her escape past me, grimacing as soon as her back was turned. I didn't have to look to know the moment she saw Samuel she was smiling. She flirted with every man she thought looked good, and her current boyfriend, well, I wasn't sure if he knew it or not.

I wandered back out and grabbed the keys, rescuing Samuel from Meredith and her charms. "Well, Samuel the guitarist, looks like you're the real thing," I called, cheerfully.

"I never said I wasn't."

No, but there were liars everywhere. I followed him out to the alley. The band's van was big and black, with 'The Horde' written on the side of it in red letters. I raised an eyebrow. "Like the Mongols or the barbarians?"

"Mongols. Our lead singer calls himself Genghis. How tacky is that? Samuel chuckled.

I wondered if their lead singer had slaughtered any helpless innocents recently. It might be nice to find out before we unleashed havoc on the bar...well, on Meredith. I helped Samuel unload and listened to him talk. He had a lot of hair-curling stories about life in a band, and he was chatty-friendly. It made me suspicious. Friendly people were _unnatural_. And usually trouble, when you lived my life. Friendly people wanted to help for the _better good _and fuck if that didn't jive with an abusive alcoholic mother...or an abusive alcoholic brother. Well, not exactly true; Niko and I didn't drink half as much as our mother did. In fact, neither of us drank every night - though Niko was prone to getting drunk as hell every Saturday and between us we could polish off a bottle of vodka in about eight minutes. It took a hell of a lot to get us both drunk, though...

So I helped Samuel unload and was vaguely friendly at him and trusted him not one bit. I learned a lot about hooking up amps, though, that was useful.

I poured Samuel another soda when we were done, and he slid me fifteen dollars. I pocketed it and smiled. "Hey, thanks. You're now my favorite tipper ever."

"Well, you did help me with the heavy lifting," Samuel pointed out. He glanced at his watch, a heavy chrome thing. "In about half an hour you'll get to live the stories. I'd better go do a sound-check." He nodded to me, drank the last of his soda, and slipped off to his job. I glanced up at Meredith, and she was watching him go. I sighed and prepared to tune out whatever comment she was going to make about his ass. I was definitely not interest in a man's ass. A woman's, sure, I'd look all day. But not Meredith's, either, she was attractive but it was all fake. Plastic Barbie doll: and a lazy one too.

But tonight we both had to work. I could hardly believe my eyes; it wasn't exactly packed but there were more people in the bar than I'd ever seen since I'd started working there. I worked pretty hard for a few hours, then took a break for supper, leaving Meredith to man the bar. She was in her flirtiest element and doing quite fine.

Even over the packed bar and the reek of alcohol, sweat, and the tang of electric-pumped adrenaline, I smelled Niko ghosting up behind me. "Fancy meeting you here, sheriff," I drawled, in my best John Wayne accent, and kicked at the chair opposite me. I was tucked back in a corner, the best place to be. Eyes on the doorways and no-one but the wall and Niko at my back.

Niko chuckled and took the chair. "Evenin', pardner," he returned, amused. He sat down. "Your bar has been raised from the dead. We should call the Vatican and report a miracle."

I laughed. "They'd probably want to exorcise the place instead."

"Or exorcise you, little monster," he chuckled, and stole a bite of my fries with cheese. "I see you're working Meredith to the bone. Sorry, to the silicone."

"Yeah, poor baby." I rolled my eyes. "Wanna help? And what's the plan?"

"Plan later when the walls do not have ears." Niko looked smug. I leaned over and wiped at a smudge on his jaw - small flecks of dried blood. He'd been out fighting, then, but from the minute shake of his head it hadn't been somewhere he could have brought me. He'd probably dropped into a betting match somewhere, an illegal cage match probably. I reached under the table and patted at his pocket. Yup, a fat roll of bills. Niko's fingers tangled with mine and he squeezed lightly, affectionately.

"Right. So come help me sling drinks instead of fists," I told him.

"Fists pay better. And are more entertaining," he snorted, but when I stood up, he followed me behind the bar. Meredith tried to flirt but Niko adroitly kept her busy. Niko liked a girl he could string along on nothing more than promises and sweet-talk. Meredith wanted things a little more physical. Niko could handle her, though, and he and I went to work. Niko let me to most of the talking. Making me sing for my supper, damn him.

The band took a break and Samuel came to lean on the bar. "The new help isn't as pretty as the redhead," he commented.

I nearly dropped the new keg of beer on my foot. I couldn't wait to hear Niko's response to _that_.

Niko raised an eyebrow, then smiled in his best friendly manner and rattled of a string of insults in Rom. He ended it in English with, "A pleasure to meet you." Which was goddamn _hilarious_ given he'd pretty much just told Samuel 'I hope I fuck your mother's dead ancestors while you jerk off watching you plague-ridden _gadje_.' Niko did not offer his hand and Samuel looked vaguely baffled.

I was having to bite my tongue to not give away the game. I wrestled the keg into place to buy myself some time. "Niko, that's Samuel. Minion to the leather god. Samuel, this is Niko."

"Ah, yeah, a pleasure," Samuel returned, still looking bemused.

I had to turn around to get a soda for Samuel to hide my laughter. God, Niko was horrible. And it was _funny as hell_. I had my face straightened out again by the time I passed the drink over. "Here."

"The leather god, hmm? The singer the eighties hair trend forgot," Niko decided, standing tall a moment to look at Genghis. He leaned a hand on the bar.

"You're one to talk, Rapunzel," Samuel jibed, with a friendly smile.

I dreamily wondered how much my pay would get docked if Niko decked Samuel. Yeah, no. I reached out and tugged on Niko's braid. He gave me a cool, sidelong look, and poured out another bag of shitty pretzels instead. He offered these to Samuel with that little ghost-smile on his lips. And behind the bowl, he forked the sign of the evil eye at Samuel.

Whether or not curses like that truly existed, well, I wasn't actually sure. If anyone had the power to lay one, it would probably be me or Niko, the sons of a seer. Sophia had lied, been a false woman all the way through, but...

"You guys are pretty good. Retro, but harder than I'd first thought. Guess the leather pants should have tipped me off, huh?" I asked, leaning on the bar.

"Yeah...are you two brothers?" Samuel asked.

"No," we said in unison.

I almost felt sorry for Samuel as he looked between us, obviously trying to decide if we were teasing or not. If you had to ask, though, the answer was no. If you couldn't tell, we weren't about to hand the answer out.

We were saved by the arrival of Genghis, the main man himself; chiseled sweat-slick features, fiery blue eyes, a broad hairless chest and a red polyester shirt. Granted, his eyes were closer together than your average weasel found attractive. He slapped a meaty palm down onto the bar. "Who do I have to screw in this shithole to get a beer?" he demanded.

I briefly contemplated hitting him between the eyes with a beer bottle. It was a small target but I bet I could make it fit. Instead, I got him a beer. "Here you are, no whoring of your body necessary."

Genghis took it without a second look or a second thought, totally ignoring me. Bastard. His next beer I'd spit in. Never piss off the servers. Instead, Genghis went off on Samuel about the sound and how they needed a sound check. Obligatory bitching done, he swaggered off. We all watched him go with distaste.

"Holy hell, what an asshole," I hissed to Niko.

"Think he was born with the stick up his ass?" he returned, speculatively.

"Probably," Samuel sighed. "Well, I'd better go. See you guys on Friday, hey?"

"You're coming back? Wow, I didn't know you were that hard-up, man." I offered him a wry smile. See, I could be all sympathetic. A friendly little monster.

Samuel laughed a little, cheer restored. "Yeah, well, you gotta do what you gotta do until you get a break." He waved and slid away into the crowd.

I didn't bother to tell him that Niko and I would hopefully have skipped town by then... At least I hoped that was the plan. As soon as we got out of here I was accosting Niko and shaking the damn bastard down for an answer. He could enjoy being slippery for the duration of my shift only. After that, I was going to get my answers.

We cleaned up and mopped and broke the bar down and we headed out. Niko looked at me stewing and smiled, but he started talking before I had to start thumping him in the kidneys. "I've been asking around for a good place to get a good used car for cheap. I have a list. Tomorrow morning, early, we'll start looking."

"So we are leaving?" I asked, walking closer so he blocked more of the wind. I didn't like the cold.

"Hopefully by lunch tomorrow we'll be halfway to the deep South," Niko answered, and draped an arm over my shoulders. He knew I didn't like the cold. "You could have picked to want to stay somewhere that didn't snow almost every winter. We could have moved to California."

"I don't like sand." The texture made me feel triggery, sorta. On-edge. Niko knew that and he squeezed me closer. I kicked him in the ankles. He laughed. "I don't. Where are we going?"

He told me as he headed home.


	6. Chapter Five: Shop

**A/N: **I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for my very prompt Christmas review! Thanks also to Comuterale, Fields of Grey, and halesgir101 for reviewing!

**Happy New Years!**

* * *

_**Chapter Five:** Shop  
_

* * *

_Hey kid! Do I have your attention?  
__I know the way you've been living  
__Life so reckless, tragedy endless  
__Welcome to the family  
_-"Welcome to the Family," by Avenged Sevenfold

* * *

Niko woke me up politely; he threw me across the room. I landed on all fours with my heart pounding. He smiled. "Breakfast's up."

I swore at him and he headed back out. He, of course, was already showered and dressed and had braided his hair. I got to my feet, shaking from the adrenaline rush, and got dressed. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and headed out to see what breakfast was. It was not yogurt or granola, it was bran-strawberry-muffins and orange juice and bacon and eggs. Well, that made up for throwing me across the room. Barely. I sat down and starting eating, eagerly. Niko had yogurt as well but screw that. It tasted gross. He ate at a leisurely pace, reading the neighbor's newspaper. He stole it for a few hours every morning.

"You're happy today," I grumbled.

"I made enough last night we don't have to empty our mattress fund to buy our car," he answered, calmly.

I raised my eyebrows. "Shit. Really."

"The favorite did not last long." Niko smiled and flipped over to the crossword puzzle. He picked up a pen and started working on it.

"Huh." I finished off the bacon, started on the eggs. "Good job."

Niko nodded. We finished eating in silence, save for a brief discussion over the capitol of Iberia and the co-star of the Golden Girls. Crosswords expand your knowledge in the most random and useless of ways. I left Niko working on the cryptoquote and went to brush my teeth and put my gun in a holster instead of my waistband. Niko kept telling me I was gonna shoot my balls off by accident one day, but whatever. It wasn't really like I was going to use them. Don't get me wrong, I was very personally fond of my balls but yeah.

So I was a nineteen year old virgin. Did it matter? Hell no. Did my hormones care? Hell yes. Could I do anything about it? Again, hell no. I was a monster, and I doubted I was going to find anyone willing to sex it up with me. And the risk of a bouncing baby flesh-eater? I'm not stupid. And besides, on the grand scale of staying alive, having sex just didn't rank high as a priority while on the run. Neither Niko nor I had any flings and that was fine. What Niko did for blue balls I had no idea and I never wanted to know. Me? I had a nice collection of nudie magazines, a good imagination, and a hell of a right arm.

Guns, knife, longsleeved shirt, jacket...if we were going to be in public it was my job to look like a happy healthy well-adjusted not-monster. I broke out what Niko called my "movie-star makeup" to cover and dim the bruise on my face. It covered up nicely, all the swelling gone. Miraculously all better, I went out to get some coffee. I could smell it brewing. Niko passed me a travel mug and pushed me towards the door. He was already wearing his long black leather trenchcoat. With that, and the gloves, and the long braid, he looked like a motorcycle gang member. All he needed was a few tattoos and a broken nose. I told him as much. He raised a single eyebrow.

"Oh? And what makes you think I'd stoop to decorating my skin with such distasteful graffiti?"

"You always fight me for the fake tattoos in my Frosted Flakes. Busted, man, so busted." I grinned and trotted down the stairs ahead of him. He snorted and jumped. I avoided the flying kick and outright bolted; hey it was all in good fun, trying to kill eachother on the stairs! I ran out into the street and Niko trotted along after me.

I napped on the subway, leaning against Niko, and dreamed copper and glass dreams, heavy and cold. I woke with his arm around me and together we headed out into the sun, beaming down on Brooklyn. I hid behind my coffee-mug. Niko snorted and passed me a pair of sunglasses from a coat pocket. I slipped them on and followed along after him.

"Where do you want to stay, anyway?" Niko asked, as we waited to cross the street. "That apartment is shit. If we're going to stay we need a better one."

I blinked. "Um. Well, I like Queens, I guess. Where'd you want to move us?"

"Anywhere we can stay under the radar," Niko snorted. "I'll look into places when we get back. Any suggestions?"

"Anywhere we have room enough to spar indoors come winter." I drained the last of my coffee. Yum. The idea of not going out into the _snow_ was really a good one, and I hoped Niko took it into damn good consideration. He might not mind the cold, but I sure did.

The first stop was actually not that bad at first. Niko and I zeroed in on the old cars, but the prices were way out of our pockets. Still, a sleek cherry-red Mustang? Damn, man, damn. I wanted one, and I could tell Niko did too. Still, we turned away and started looking at the rest. The lot was small but the selection...well. Niko shook his head and I shrugged.

"Think we could afford a pair of old tires?" I asked.

"Only one big enough to stuff you in and roll you down the highway," he answered, with a smile.

I grinned too because I remembered that game. Nothing like rolling down a steep hill in a tire. It was a wonder we never broke our necks back then. Kids, bouncy as hell. "With you running behind the whole way. I like that. Uh-oh." We'd been spotted, and it was heading our way fast. "Look out, Nik, here it comes."

A smile a mile wide, sunglasses that cost more than my gun, and a suit so expensive I wanted to ruin it just on principle. It all came towards us like a heat-seeking missile and I contemplated the benefits of making a run for it. Niko sighed. "Where there are graveyards, there are flesh-eating revenants. Where there are used cars, there are used car salesmen."

"Both monsters, we should shoot them." Niko snorted at me and said not a word when I slid behind him. He could deal with the salesguy.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, what a fine day! Rob Fellows at your service. What can I put you in today?" He slipped a card into Niko's hand like a Vegas magician, smooth as quicksilver. I watched him warily. "Sports car? SUV? Maybe something thrifty with gas? I've got it all, foreign or domestic. Any particular colour? Red's popular, naturally, but with you two, I'm thinking maybe black? Nice and simple. I've got a new Camaro over in the corner there, a jewel, a veritable glory. Right this way, and watch your step."

He was smooth as oil and twice as slippery...because he wasn't human. I touched the back of Niko's arm, stayed back. Sure, Rob there_ looked_ all human, with riotous brown curls, a wide pleasant mouth, and the amoral green gaze of a fox, but there was no way he was human. His scent was something old, earthy, pungent. Musk and sex, that's what it made me think of, and something darker still. I sneezed. Niko eyed me and smoothly redirected Rob to the sleek Mustang we'd both been admiring. Rob made his pitch, Niko was 'persuaded,' and in we went to sign the papers. Rob seemed highly pleased, confident in his status as salesmonster of the year.

Make that several years; there were plaques all over his walls. I slipped into the chair across from the desk, while Niko examined the awards, drifting around the room silently. Rob turned his beaming smile on me and I had sudden sympathy to deer on the highway. I didn't smile back. "You're a regular Willy Loman, aren't you?" I said instead, tone dry and sarcastic. Sulky teenager, I had that down to a T. We'd seen the Broadway production of Death of a Salesman a few months back; Niko liked to broaden my mind with the arts.

Rob almost winced, smile pained. "It speaks." Okay, no way he was getting away with that. "I'd like to think I'm more successful than that, Mr...er." He leaned across the desk and offered his hand out. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't get your name."

I stared, then reached out and took his hand...and grabbed his wrist too. Now I smiled, sharp and predatory. "Caliban. Nice to meet you, Loman."

His smile vanished. "What the hell?" He started to struggle against my grip, but Niko was already at his back, and a thin silvery stiletto was kissing his carotid artery with a needle-fine tip. A trickle of blood drifted down his throat, and the smell was wild, intoxicating.

"Sharp, huh? Niko likes his shiny toys," I told him, grinning.

"Hardly toys," Niko purred, baritone voice gone silky and sweet in his most dangerous tones. This was his kind of fun, and it would only get better if Rob fought. He leaned closer, voice whisper-soft. "A way of life, rather. A philosophy. Perhaps even a religion." I could see his face and if Rob could see it in any reflection, he'd be witness to the heavy-lidded eyes and the eager tiny smile on Niko's lips; predatory as anything I could ever manage.

Niko could be damn terrifying some days.

I smiled back, matching the grin, and tipped my head a fraction. "Maybe we should talk, Loman, before Niko decides you'd look good as John the Baptist." So Niko couldn't behead him with that little dagger, but I knew my brother had a full-sized katana under that coat, and a small hatchet to match.

I don't know what gave it away; suddenly Rob's eyes widened. It wasn't the smell, or he'd have known sooner. Maybe it was the way I quirked my head or the way the toothy smile fit on my face. Hell, it could have been the pale skin. "Auphe," Rob breathed, wariness and revulsion in his tone. "You're Auphe."

"Well, only half-right," Niko corrected, calmly.

"And what kind of monster are you?" I asked, leaning over the desk to touch his throat, the blood there. Tension rippled over him; I'd have almost called it a shudder except he didn't move even a fraction of an inch. "You don't smell like any of the ones I know." I sniffed the blood on my fingers, then licked it. Holy hell, what a tang. Rob's eyes had gone wider and his teeth showed briefly. Hurrah for me, I'd spooked him, but hell if I was ever tasting his blood again; that shit was nasty.

"Half Auphe. I didn't think anything would breed with an Auphe. They hate even eachother," he breathed. "Monsters...but with a name like Caliban I think you know that."

"Oh, we know," Niko answered, serenely. "I think, Rob, you should stop babbling, and answer a few questions. We'll let you go if you do."

"How very thoughtful of you. I suppose I have no other choice at the moment," Rob conceded. "Very well. Ask away. And if you could kindly remove your little sewing needle, all the better."

Niko looked at me. I looked at him. He nodded, and moved away silently. "Very well. The first question, Rob: you should tell us what, exactly, you are."

"Dying of curiosity here," I piped in, still smiling fit to kill somebody.

Rob nodded, and wiped away the blood at his throat meticulously. "Robin Goodfellow, at your service," he announced and leaned back in his chair with a smile. "Maybe you've heard of me. Shakespeare gave me some good press. But that was really only one of my incarnations: Puck, Pan, all of them, all one and the same. Different cultures, different times, but it was always me. More and less than the legend."

Niko and I exchanged glances, and as one leaned over to look at his feet. "Funny, I thought you were supposed to have the legs of a goat," Niko mused.

Robin grinned cheerfully and rolled his eyes. "Fur chaps. I try to make a fashion statement before its time and that was the thanks I got."

"Can we hurry this up?" I demanded. Listening to this guy talk was not my idea of a fun time, curious though I was. "Your voice is fuck-all annoying." I made a face at Robin. It was a pleasant voice but I didn't want to hear him ramble so it was annoying.

"Rude, aren't you?" Robin sniffed, annoyance prickling in his tone. "Mind your manners."

The words, the tone, left me feeling like I'd been kicked in the gut: my heart started pounding and my stomach twisted - hell if I knew why though. Niko said that to me all the time. _'Mind your manners, monster,'_ we said to one another and that was fine, that was everyday, so why the hell did I feel cold and shaken?

"I'm gonna go get a drink," I said, roughly, and got to my feet.

Niko was looking at me, but all he said was, "One for me, please." He magicked a crisp dollar bill from his pocket and passed it to me. I headed for the lobby. As the door shut behind me I could hear Niko talking - but what he knew, I knew. He'd fill me in later.

I nearly ran down the goddamned secretary, coming out of the office. She squeaked and put a hand over her chest. "Oh, you startled me..." She was clearly heading to the office. So instead of being gruff or rude I smiled at her.

"Hey, um, can you show me where the drink machine is?" I could run diversion, sure.

"Oh, well, Mr. Fellows has a call..."

I smiled a little more and put some pleading in it. She crumbled - even little old ladies could not resist my charms, booyah. She led me to the drink machine and chatted at me about how pretty my hair was and offered to feed me muffins. Who am I to turn down free food? I got the muffins. Cranberry and blueberry and very home-made. Armed with food and drink, I re-entered the office.

Niko raised an eyebrow. I shrugged, and delivered unto him a muffin and apple juice. He thanked me gravely.

Robin smiled. "I see you met Dorothea."

"Yeah. She likes my hair." I slouched into my chair with my own muffin and apple juice. Neither Niko nor I liked sodas much. Too tangy and biting, and after learning you could dissolve a chicken bone in a Coke...yeah. I didn't like them much. I did like the muffins, though, they were good.

Niko sipped his juice and turned to Robin. "And you've never seen an Auphe here?"

Green eyes widened and Robin swallowed convulsively. "_Here_? Auphe here? _Katadikazo, no_. Never."

Too bad for Robin, _never_ had just gotten a whole lot shorter.

Niko gave me the bad news as soon as we left. "We're meeting him again. Tomorrow."

"What? Why?" I demanded.

"He says he has a contact, whom we could ask why the Auphe are after you." Niko reached up and touched the back of my neck, fingers cold under my ponytail and jacket collar. "Why did he upset you? I say that to you all the time."

Of course Niko had noticed.

I shook my head. "I...I don't know. It made me feel weird. Triggery." On edge, like I needed to watch out. But it wasn't like that was a phrase that signaled anything _bad_, not like Niko swearing or him saying I needed to remember this. Hell, we teased one another with that phrase over and over. So why in hell had it made me feel so weird? Maybe the fact that he was a stranger, saying something we used so intimately. Hell if I knew.

Niko frowned a little. "Alright now?" he asked, calloused fingers riding on my neck softly.

"Yeah. 'M good now." I shrugged, angled him a smile. I was, though still wondering why.

Niko's pocket rang. As the electronic tones of the Mexican Hat Dance issued from his pocket, Niko gave me a flat glare. I grinned unrepentantly. He tried to keep his ringtone at this boring old standard ring-ring. I liked changing it every damn chance I got - and the language too. That was fun. Niko fished his cell-phone out, scowled to find the display was in Chinese, and answered it. "Hello? Yes. I suppose, but... Fine. When?" He spluttered at the answer. "Tonight? I...well fine. Thank you for the short notice," he said, in a pleasant tone that really meant 'fuck you with a rusty pipe-wrench.' He shut the phone, shoved it in his pocket, and swore as we descended into the subway.

I waited for the explanation. It was not long in coming. "My other job wants me to work a shift tonight. Apparently Miss Nottinger asked for me by name." Niko shook his head. "Do you want to tag along tonight?"

I considered. Niko's part-time job of bodyguarding didn't make as much as his full-time job at the chop-shop, but he met some interesting people that way. Promise Nottinger was a nice change from acting nutjobs and wannabes. She was always a lady, even if she was a man-eater. Promise had five late very, very rich husbands. They'd all died from natural causes, sure, but I had my suspicions. I was willing to bet those honeymoon deaths weren't all exactly accidents. No doubt they'd died happy, happy men, but... Yeah. Still, Promise was polite, graceful, and genteel. They called her "Promissory Note," when they thought she wasn't listening, but that didn't mean all of the old rich folks didn't want to know her. Rich society. It didn't make a damn of sense.

"Sure. I'll go." I shrugged. Niko smiled briefly at me, and patted my shoulder. Right over a bruise. I didn't flinch despite the sting.

Another night to stand watchful, wary. Hot damn.

I hoped Niko would let me get a nap in.


	7. Chapter Six: Reveal

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series! I do not own the lyrics used to start this chapter!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review! A special thanks to Obi-the-Kid for being brave enough to join us on this dark ride! Thanks also to Comuterale for reviewing!

* * *

_**Chapter Six:** Reveal_

* * *

_I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows_  
_I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes_  
_Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies_  
_You never know just how you look through other people's eyes_  
-"Pepper," Butthole Surfers

* * *

I woke up halfway curled up in Niko's lap. He was asleep too, head laid back on the couch, braid trailing over his shoulder. One of his hands rested over my shoulder, the other rested loosely on the grip of his broadsword. Sure he was good with the katana, but the broadsword was more intimidating, and I knew he'd picked it just to make me feel better. I laid there with my head on his thigh and listened to him breathe, steady and slow. I hadn't had any nightmares, not the slightest. I looked up at the TV, still on though muted. The end credits of Legends of the Fall were rolling. Of course. I rolled my eyes, and sat up. Niko woke instantly, grey eyes snapping open, and he looked around the room before focusing on me.

He always did that - scanned the room then found me. Like he knew where I was so he never had to check that first.

I yawned, and looked at the clock. Good. We had time to eat before we went to play bodyguards. Niko mirrored the yawn, picked his sword up, and gently pushed my knees from his lap. We got up, and while I was still stretching he headed for the kitchen. I headed for the bathroom. Let Niko cook, I had other things to take care of.

As I was washing my hands, I thought I saw something in the corner of my eye. I whipped my head up, heart stopping...but it was only my own reflection in the mirror, the edge of the old window there. I glanced behind me at the window. Maybe a pigeon had flown past it. Or something. I gave my reflection a rueful stare, and tugged at my hair. It was long enough to braid, but...a braid was Niko's thing. Besides, my hair didn't tangle as much as his did; it was thicker. I redid my ponytail and went to see what Niko was going to make for supper.

After a rousing meal of leftovers, we got dressed. Niko lent me a blazer, and it was a little too broad in the shoulders. It did hide my guns nicely. I had no slacks, but black jeans looked just fine. Niko was similarly outfitted, but how in hell he'd managed to hide his katana under the shorter coat I'd never figure out. Magicians had nothing on Niko, I swear.

We made our way to the Upper East Side; Promise lived on Sixtieth Street in an apartment that had a great view of the Park. Thirty stories up. Way to give my stomach the flips. I just didn't look out the window much. Niko took the stairs, of course, so I went as well. Elevators were metal deathtraps, he said, and after watching so many movies I agreed. Who knew what was just waiting to climb through the top or eat its way through the bottom? Or, worse yet, cut the cables and watch you plummet to a mushy pile of doom. Yeah, so we took the stairs, which was hell on my knees.

Promise was ready and waiting. Her apartment was lush, slick wood floors and jewel-bright rugs and ornate pictures. Elegant. Niko liked the style, the cleanness - I could see it in the appreciative tip of his head. I considered palming the little gold statue on the table in the entryway...but with my luck it'd be fake anyway. Promise herself had the clean beauty of the apartment; she was short, slender, with mink-brown hair pulled up and back. Her most outstanding features were a pair of cheekbones that could cut glass and - I kid you not - purple eyes. Purple like heather, faded and sad. Romantic as hell, if you didn't mind that they were cold and quiet as a deep well. She was something else, and though I liked that she treated us professionally, something about her put my hackles up. You just don't have that many dead husbands without _something_ going on. Serial killer? Hell, wouldn't surprise me. At any rate, all those late husbands had left a trail of angry relatives wanting all that earned money. Promise wanted protection, and she paid nicely for it. Niko and I would take her cash and not worry about her morals. Or the lack thereof. Hey, it wasn't like we could exactly say anything; pot, meet kettle.

We'd no sooner arrived than we were leaving. Promise was always prompt. She took the elevator, which meant we did, too, and both me and Niko stood there and were quietly nervous. At least, I was. Niko just looked bored.

We got to ride in the limousine with her, which was damn fine. I liked the cushy seats and the mini-fridge was well stocked with champagne. I didn't care for the bubbly stuff, actually, it was too sweet for me. Niko didn't like it either, and besides, it was unprofessional to drink on the job. And we were damn sure professionals. Professional _what_ I wasn't too sure. But we cleaned up hella nice, Niko and I did. I knew 'cause we got looks from all the ladies, as we flanked Promise entering the Waldorf.

It was some kind of charity event or something. Lots of money was being spent on one cause or another: I hoped it was a good cause. I mean, hell, there are some things that can be solved with money. Like research for cancer and shit like that. I had no idea what the deal was for this bash, though. I was just doing my job. While Niko stood attendance on Promise, I swept the room, looking for threats and swiping the fancy hors-de-vours. Man, you didn't get better party food than when you were rich. Stuffed mushrooms? Hell yes. Hell fucking yes.

It had crab and bacon in it and I was one happy little monster. I signaled Niko across the room and headed for the bathroom, munching slowly to savor the treat. The hall was wide and decorated with fancy paintings. The bathroom itself was huge, with a fuckin' chandelier, cream wallpaper, and brass fixtures. I didn't think I'd ever pissed in a place so fancy. With a shrug, I headed off to do business. I hummed to myself, the tune to "Pepper" stuck in my head. God I hadn't heard that song in forever. I was still humming, echoing quietly in the silence of the cavernous bathroom, when I went to wash my hands. The acoustics in this place were pretty good. I glanced at the huge-ass mirror only briefly, making sure not too many strands had escaped my ponytail yet. My hair liked to be loose and continuously tried to escape whatever I put it in.

They had real towels. Huh. Fuckin' nice ones, too. I wiped my hands off and then I caught it - a flicker of shadow in the corner of my eye. Body jolting with adrenaline, I whirled to face it, hand closing around the grip of my Glock and found...

...nothing. My own goddamn reflection. Well fuck. Nervous, pussycat? I glared at myself.

"This seeing shit has got to stop," I told my reflection.

As if in response, the lights flickered.

In that moment of blackness, barely two heartbeats long, I _felt_ something brush my neck, and I was already swinging when the lights came back. The darkness seemed to linger a fraction too long in the silver mirror, like a hand passing over the glass, and with knife in hand I stared at the mirror.

What was this fuckery?

I leaned forward and tapped the mirror with the tip of my blade. "Stop fucking with me, Alice. I don't play nice."

I bared my teeth, then felt remarkably silly. I was threatening a mirror. Well, it wasn't just a mirror and that totally justified it. I was going to have to tell Niko about visitors from Wonderland, though. He'd know if I was really going bonkers or if there was something like liked mirrors _aside_ from Alice, because that sure as fuck hadn't felt friendly. Well, the Bloody Mary legend, but I hadn't said any names...

With one last lingering glare, I headed back to find Niko. He'd know, even if we couldn't talk now.

I traded out with Niko. He nodded, touched my arm lightly, and vanished utterly into the crowd. You'd think a guy a little over six foot with a waist-length pale blonde braid would stand out _somehow_ but Niko never did. I couldn't even pick him out again after he'd gone. I swear, my brother had all the supernatural skills. But he was all human - I could tell. I stood beside dainty little Promise and did my best to look intimidating. Not that I thought any of these ancient filthy-rich douchebags were capable of doing anything to hurt her, but hey, I was a bodyguard for the night. Imposing was part of the job description.

As usual, Promise didn't stay long. Just about an hour, really, long enough to say hello, get seen, and make her mark. Apparently she wasn't hunting for any other husbands these days. She left, and out of the chatter of the party she went silent, graceful, gliding along serenely. Once we were outside, she stopped, and tipped her head back to look at the sky. I did too - no stars, only the city smog dimming a yellowed old moon and the orange reflection of thousands on thousands of city lights.

"I miss the stars," she sighed, softly. I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Niko; that was the first time she'd ever said anything remotely personal in my presence. Niko quirked an eyebrow right back at me. She'd surprised him too.

"Too much light can be pollution as well," Niko agreed. He liked the stars - I could remember many childhood nights naming constellations, held safe in the hollow of Niko's side, and the back door always propped open for a quick retreat into indoors. If we'd only known - nowhere was safe with the Auphe. But ignorance is bliss, right? Niko spoke again, voice calm and cool. "Perhaps we should go."

Promise hesitated, then shook her head. "I believe I am in the mood for a walk. You may tell Timothy he is dismissed. Pity. He'll have to forgo his customary nap behind the wheel." Wow, sharp - I had a feeling her driver was about to be an ex-driver. Whether she'd just fire him or sex him to death was a good question, and kept me entertained while Niko dismissed the man. Promise knotted her silk shawl around her shoulders, and we were off, walking along in the brisk autumn chill. Niko took point and I fell in behind Promise, listening to the steady click of her heels on the pavement.

It was another steady beat that caught my attention after a block. I hesitated, stepped aside to catch a shift of the wind. Yeah. Company. I gestured at Niko when he looked back. He nodded. Aware now, I started trying to catch glimpses of our follower. He wasn't Auphe, just human, but human with the sour-metallic tang of crazy laid over it. Hot damn. Promise kept walking, seemingly oblivious, but at least I had something to keep me busy while she walked. And walked. And walked. Goddamn, did she want to walk all the way back to her apartment? Sure, let's lead the crazy man right home and invite him in for tea and crumpets. I'd already threatened Alice. Better add the Mad Hatter to the list, too. Idly, I wondered if that made Niko the Dormouse or the Cheshire Cat.

Nah, Promise was definitely the Dormouse.

She drifted to a halt at last, and started down an alley. Niko adroitly blocked the way. I edged closer and noticed a strand of Christmas lights over a fire-escape railing, the draping icicles clear and crisp. Either someone had the Christmas spirit all year 'round or they were as lazy as I was. Promise looked at the little lights almost longingly, then looked up at Niko. "We're being followed, aren't we?"

"Nik," I warned, seeing our demented shadow slipping closer.

"Cal, take the back. Miss Nottinger, please come with me," Niko answered, and lightly laid his hand in the small of Promise's back. He herded her into the darkness of the alley. I found my own shadow to hide in and leaned against the wall, dropping into perfect stillness. I wasn't always patient, and neither was Niko, but when it came to the hunt...

Our crazy man came around the corner. The look in his eyes - stark and fanatical like a street preacher - was definitely insane. He was hunch-shouldered and drawn so tight with tension he looked like he might shatter to pieces under a touch. He moved jittery, one hand inside his coat and clutching at a weapon of some sort.

I wanted until he was past, then slipped from the shadows noiselessly. I drew my gun and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. "Hey there. You took a wrong turn, buddy."

He whirled and flung his arm out. I ducked under to the side, brought my gun to bear and saw it wasn't a weapon - well, not a traditional one. Shooting unarmed people? Big fuss-maker. So instead I dropped and sweep-kicked his feet from under him. He dropped, and I pounced. I nearly got bashed in the face again with the goddamned silver cross - it clipped my ear and with a yelp I lost my hold.

Niko _appeared_ out of the darkness and with a single precise kick, dislocated the man's shoulder. I rolled free and scrambled to my feet, panting with adrenaline. I rubbed my aching ear and watched Niko competently take control, crouching down to interrogate the bastard. I glanced around, and found Promise. I moved closer to her, and rubbed my ear again, heel of my hand scraping against my bruised cheek.

"You always attract psycho religious freaks?" I queried.

"I...he's a relative of my late husband," she admitted, looking away from Niko going through the man's pockets. I was pretty sure Niko had killed him with that last kick, but I didn't know if Promise knew. "He's been following me around, saying the strangest things..." She stepped closer, and I wrinkled my nose at the swirl of her perfume. Heady stuff. She reached out and touched my cheek and I flinched away. The hell?

"Every time I've seen you, Caliban, you have a fresh bruise. Do you get into fights often?" she asked, gently, brows knitting. Damn, I'd probably wiped my makeup off. Time to lie.

I bared my teeth in a grin at her. "Yeah. That's me, the awful younger brother."

Niko ghosted up, carrying the ornate silver cross in a casual hand. "Our resident lunatic was embracing the old-time religion, it seems."

Promise bit at her unpainted lip. "Niko, forgive me for being so forward...but I believe someone has been mistreating your brother."

Uh-oh. I went still. That was a good jump of logic there and it wasn't going to make Nik happy. Niko met her gaze calmly, grey eyes emotionless. "Is that so?" he asked, after a moment. "What makes you think that?"

"He has a new bruise every time I see him, on top of old ones," Promise reported, gravely. "And the yellow one on his wrist is a handprint."

I had no warning at all - Niko backhanded me so hard I staggered. He could move like lightning when he wanted to. Gasping from the sudden shock of it, I pulled myself upright and moved back to his side, cheek throbbing. Hot damn, I'd have a matching set. Niko looked at me, gaze glacial and steady. "Hide it better, little brother," he said, coolly.

"I will," I promised. I looked at Promise - she was standing there with her hands over her mouth, violet eyes wide. I offered her a smile as Niko cupped the back of my neck with his hand, and pulled me closer. I swayed towards him and he brushed a kiss over my forehead. "It's okay," I told her. And it was.


	8. Chapter Seven: Troll

**A/N:** I do not own anyone of the Cal Leandros series! I'm just playing in the sandbox. I do not own the songs used to frame this chapter!

Cal chose the music for this chapter: apparently he's into synthpop and grunge bands. For the record, I listen mostly to rock, and both these bands are virtually unknown to me. It's always weird when a muse declares preferences that are vastly different from your own.

Also, all the chapter titles have been verbs: this one is as well.

Long chapter ahoy!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 and halesgirl101 for the prompt reviews! Thanks also to Comuterale for reviewing!

To celebrate having _finished the writing of this story_ I decided to post this a little early. Now, to work on the sequel...

* * *

_**Chapter Seven:** Troll_

* * *

_I'll never be a saint_  
_That's not a picture your memory paints_  
_Not renowned for my patience_  
_I'm not renowned for my restraint_  
-"Sinner in Me," Depeche Mode

* * *

"Well, Miss Nottinger probably won't ask for us again," I sighed, stripping out of my jacket. I started on my holsters.

"Considering she's a vampire, that's probably for the best," Niko answered, stunning me.

"What? What the hell?" I whirled to face him. He was sitting in the entry-way, unlacing his combat boots. "You sure?"

"Our recently deceased lunatic was carrying holy water, a wooden stake, and a cross." Niko nodded. "He was vampire-hunting. And as Miss Nottinger is not known for her daytime excursions, nor for indulging in food at any point...and if you recall the_ last_ pair of vampires we encountered, the particular manner of talking without showing all the teeth is hers as well. I am reasonably certain." He pulled off his last boot and got to silent socked feet.

"You have to be watching her lips awful close to see that," I retorted, and went back to unbuckling my double shoulder holsters, shrugging out of them. "Don't tell me you've got the hots for her."

"Then I won't," Niko answered, smug, and I whirled around again, holsters dangling from one arm, shocked.

"Shit! Tell me you're kidding!"

"She has a certain...delicate appeal," Niko mused, shrugging out of his own jacket and reached up to unbuckle the harness for his swords.

I gaped at him for a moment. "She's not your usual type," I protested. Come to think of it, Niko hadn't had a girl for a couple of months now... I only knew because he typically spent a few nights a week dangling them along and lately he'd been home every night.

"No. And I rather think after tonight any appeal I had will be gone. But it would have been nice to branch out, not to mention the benefits of a sugar-momma." Niko tossed me an amused grin. I groaned and put my face in my hands.

"You just said 'sugar-momma'. Please do not_ ever_ let those words come out of your mouth again."

Niko just laughed at me.

Bastard.

We went to bed late, and spent the next day working, before we went to meet Robin. I had chores to do, the contents of a wallet and a large silver cross to pawn, and Niko went to the chop-shop, short on sleep and temper. I cleaned up the broken glass from the flash of anger and thought about Niko's comments about Promise. Would he have picked her up? Maybe, Niko could be pretty damn charming. He tended to get a pretty well-off girl, romance her off her feet for a while, and see how long he could string her along on nothing but empty promises and pretty words. Some lasted only a few weeks, others he could get along for months. He left a string of broken hearts behind him, my brother did, in true ladykiller fashion. Promise? I doubted she'd have been fooled for too long. She'd picked up on the fact that I was being beaten, anyway, and we'd done good to hide it. Except she'd probably been able to sense it or smell it or some shit like that.

I didn't always ruin Niko's chances with his girls. Most of them liked me, actually. Only one had actually tried to call the police on us, but that had been for me stealing Niko's glass of vodka and being about thirteen at the time. Stupid shit. Like we hadn't both been drinking since the single digits. Hah. Niko's girls were just his entertainment, really. He'd never kept them around for real. I doubted he'd have done any different for our lady vampire. But with the look of horror and revulsion she'd given him and the long stare of pity for me...

God_damn_ I hated that look! Like I was some sort of helpless victim.

I wasn't a victim. And I wasn't helpless.

After running my errands, I met Niko at the door, his arms full of groceries, mine full of laundry. It was with careful juggling we got inside and sorted out our bundles. Niko made lunch - macaroni, broccoli, and boiled eggs. I put everything in a bowl and stirred it up. Niko rolled his eyes at me.

"It all goes the same place anyway," I retorted. "Niko, what do you know about monsters and mirrors?"

Niko raised a single slow eyebrow. I braced myself for whatever bullshit he was going to throw at me: I knew that look. "Wubba wubba wubba wubba, wuu wuu wuu."

"...the fuck?" I returned after a dumbfounded moment, utterly lost. He'd lost his mind at last.

"Grover," he returned, smirking. "Cal, you spent how long watching Sesame Street?"

I pushed my bowl out of the way and proceeded to thump my head against the table. Repeatedly. "_God_ Nik now that's going to be stuck in my head!" I remembered alright and that had been _years_ ago and why did my brain remember all the stupid shit like that? "Seriously! I think something's following me around in mirrors, and it sure as hell ain't Alice."

"What have you seen?" Niko asked, more seriously, and ate his broccoli.

I straightened, gathered up my bowl again, and explained. He sat thoughtfully and ate. I sighed and waited for him to sift through all that mythology in his mind and tried hard not to think about that goddamn children's song. Niko had what pretty much amounted to an entire library of mythological research up in his skull, and while he could sometimes immediately arrive at an answer, sometimes it took a little while.

"Aside from ghosts and the Judeo-Christian devil, I can't think of anything, since you weren't reciting Bloody Mary," Niko reported, after about ten minutes. "You're not going Satanist on me, are you?"

"No more than usual," I retorted, and stuffed the last bite into my mouth.

"Always reassuring to know." Niko resumed eating and I got seconds. I could eat just about every frickin' thing in the kitchen and some days that still wasn't enough. Teenagers - bottomless holes for food. Niko never told me to not get seconds, or to stop buying extra food. Even when money was tight he'd feed me first. Came from not always having _enough_ when growing up with Sophia, I guess. But despite all the eating I couldn't seem to gain any weight. Fuck if I knew. Niko was not worried about it, he said, given how slender the Auphe were, and it wasn't like I was ever _sick_ or anything anyway. I was healthy as they came.

So we ate and headed to go meet with Robin Goodfellow. I was _not_ looking forward to it, and Niko had let me bring my mp3 player. With ear-buds in and Depeche Mode cranked up, I sat beside Niko on the subway as he talked with the old man next to him about the news that North Korea had performed their first nuclear test and how we were probably all doomed as hell, the Commies were going to blow the shit out of us.

I figured we'd get off at least one missile first.

Robin was, unfortunately, chatty and full of himself. He was too loud and too happy and he made me feel like stabbing someone. From the tic in his upper lip that happened about every twenty minutes, Niko was feeling a little violent himself. Robin was eating Chinese and sitting with his legs propped up on the desk, and from the moment we'd entered his office, there'd been nothing but talk. I turned up the volume until Alice in Chains drowned him out. Niko gave me a sidelong look and lightly bopped me on the back of the head.

"You're ruining your ears. Robin, while all this nostalgia is highly entertaining, we are here for a purpose. And we are ready to leave when you are." Niko said this solemnly, without any apparent irritation. Liar, he was very annoyed. I turned the volume down fractionally.

Robin sighed. "Well, alright then. We'll go see the troll."

_That_ got my attention. "Troll. Seriously?"

Niko raised an eyebrow. "You did not see fit to mention your informant might be hostile."

Suddenly I remembered Billy Goat Gruff and had to bite my lip to not start laughing at Robin. Right, no goat legs but still that was a hella coincidence. Robin gave me a strange look, like he wasn't sure if he should be wary of me or not, and shook his head. "Abbagor isn't always hostile. You may be able to get him to talk. After all, you pups got me to open up. Must be your honest faces."

"Oh yes. Must be," Niko returned, utterly deadpan.

"So where's this Abbagor?" I managed to not laugh and even sounded halfway annoyed. Go me! "Under the Brooklyn Bridge?" Closest bridge I could think of, and the biggest too.

Robin grinned like the Cheshire cat. I hoped he was going to disappear like the cat - no, wait, the mouth still stuck around. Damn, just my luck. "He shoots, he scores," he told me.

Niko and I raised matching eyebrows. Seriously.

Indeed, with all seriousness, we soon found ourselves in the damp shadows of the bridge. The river was rank but what was _worse_ was the putrid stench of troll, thick and rotting and intense as a fist to the nose. I had to stop and bend over, mouth watering, trying desperately not to throw up. Niko hovered beside me, his hand on my back. I swallowed thickly, stomach roiling. "How can you not smell that?" I gasped.

"My nose isn't as good as yours, though the river itself is fairly putrid," Niko answered, voice calm and soothing.

"The Auphe do have sensitive noses," Robin mused. He eyed me. "Gonna make it, kid?"

I had a feeling that coming from him, kid was less a human thing and more a goat thing. Fuck that. "Yeah." Breathing through my mouth did not help. I gagged, swallowed, and struggled upright, wiping at my watering eyes and wet lips. Niko grabbed the back of my jacket when I stumbled and held me up.

Robin was muttering about the filth of the river and glaring at his shoes. He was wearing black slacks, leather black loafers, and a forest green silk shirt. He looked like a fashion plate, especially compared to me and Niko, both wearing leather jackets despite the warm fall day; I always wore longsleeves anyway and me and Niko's jeans and combat boots made Robin's getup look daintily ridiculous. We looked ready for ass-kicking. He looked ready for a walk down the runway.

"So where's your friend," I managed, and wished I had my headphones on. Robin's constant chatter was annoying.

"He is most certainly not my friend," Robin sniffed. "He's not exactly my enemy, either, but for sake of ease we'll call him that. Trolls are like storms. They're a force of nature, deadly and completely without conscience. Forget that and you could be killed in a heartbeat." Hot damn, he actually sounded serious for once.

"The smell might kill me first," I grumbled, and gagged again. Ugh. The mud sucked at my boots as I walked. Niko managed somehow to still be utterly silent. Fucker.

Robin lead us around an abutment to a rusted iron grate set flush with the concrete. It was the kind I'd never wanted to walk over when I'd been little because I'd always known the monsters underneath would drag me down to the sewers or worse. Niko had never told me any different and for a moment I had a little flash of fear that made my toes curl. Then I shook it off and moved closer, kicking at the grate. I was one of the monsters.

"In here, huh?" I asked Robin, and gagged again as the smell thickened. _God_ that was awful.

"In here." Robin knelt, wrapped his hands around the bars, and without any visible effort pulled the grating free with a shriek of protesting metal. The sound made me bite at my tongue, piercing through my head, and the corner of Niko's mouth curled.

I peered down into the hole. Utter blackness below in the dim of the fading afternoon light. Niko leaned over my shoulder and produced a flashlight from his pocket. He shone the super-bright beam down into the darkness. There was a floor, and it wasn't that far down. Niko's knee nudged the back of mine, playfully, and my knees nearly buckled. I wobbled and glared at him. I didn't _think_ he'd actually push me in like that...but it was still _not cool_ to tease like that. He smiled his barely-there ghost-smile and nodded to Robin.

"Perhaps you'd like to go first?" he suggested.

From the look on his face, no, Robin did _not_ want to go first. But to give him credit, he did anyway, crouching down before dropping into the hole. He landed with a squishy thud. Muddy down there. I eyed the landing, then realized Niko was tucking his jeans into his tall combat boots. I started doing the same. The boots were waterproof, at least, though what good that was going to do us in that much mud... I took a few quick deep breaths, hyperventilating, held my breath, and dropped down into the hole.

I landed decently, though not as cat-like as my brother, and was pleased to find the mud was not as deep as I'd first thought, and definitely not over the tops of my boots. Cheered by this, I wriggled my toes, then took a breath and had to double over gagging. Niko patted me on the back and looked around, flashlight sweeping the green-slimed walls. "There." The flashlight fixed on a tunnel, carved out of the concrete with claws that had left marks almost an inch wide. I swallowed and wished I hadn't - ugh the smell-taste was so thick it was like going face-first into rancid roadkill. (Which I have done and I never want to relive again, I was vomiting for_ two days_ after.)

"That's the front door," Robin confirmed. He started wading that way, making huge slogging steps through the mud. Niko followed along more easily, cat-footed and graceful. It took me a minute to imitate him, but after I found the right rhythm I could move along without too much trouble. The smell was still _everywhere_ but my nose was starting to go numb which was such a damned relief.

Passing through into the troll-made tunnel, the air changed. It went from unseasonably warm fall air to stone-cold chill, unmoving and dead. For a moment I wondered if it was safe to breathe but Robin in the lead hadn't keeled over yet so we were probably still good. I moved closer to Niko, with the flashlight, and he slowed to let me stay almost on top of his heels. This wandering in the darkness...no, it didn't feel safe. I prefered having my danger front and center, not lurking in the darkness staring with empty soulless eyes. Anything that smelled this bad, rotting in filth, had to be soulless. Human death was here and that's a particular scent that nothing else in the world has. All decay does not have the same smell. If Abbagor ate humans, we could be next on the list.

We came out of the tunnel suddenly - I could feel a difference in the air, in the sense of pressure. Niko hesitated only a fraction, our shoulders brushing together. He flicked the light around, sketching the landscape as a hollowed-out area.

"I can't see a damn thing," Robin muttered, voice tense. Good to know he hadn't been lying about Abbagor not being a friend. "Abbagor! We don't have all night. We want to talk with you. And could you take pity on us lesser beings and shine some light on the situation?"

"Afraid of the dark, randy little goat?" A voice drifted down from above, cold and hard as stone. Niko and I froze. I edged closer to Niko. "Be very sure the dark isn't afraid of you."

"Come on Abbagor, old buddy, old pal," Robin wheedled, and there was the salesman. It was the same tone he'd thrown at Niko and me to hook us into buying a car. I was impressed, then wondered how long he'd been selling things to unsuspecting suckers. Robin continued. "Help me out, for old time's sake, and we'll be out of your tendrils in no time. My word on it."

"Older times. Moldered times. In all times, Goodfellow, you are the same. A boil refusing to be lanced." There was amusement in the words, patient confident amusement that said the owner of the voice was in all control and biding his time before he squashed us. My shoulder bumped Niko's spine. "If only you would hold still, I could remedy that."

Despite the unfriendly words, the request was being carried out. Light began to bloom slowly, sickly green and faint. It was coming from the mold, it looked like, slime-light that was deceptive and sickly. It and the flashlight's beam was just enough for me to see the cavern we stood in was huge - we must have been under one of the masonry towers. Abbagor had quite the roomy lair - the ceiling went up nearly three stories, it looked like. Niko kept his head tipped back, grey gaze watching the ceiling. I did too, after a wary glance around scouting the terrain. Mud, mud, and more mud. And no troll.

"Abbagor, Abbagor." Robin clucked his tongue with a regret that was almost believable...except he looked tense enough to explode at the barest touch. "You'll make me think you haven't missed me these past, what, fifty years now?"

"Missed." The tone was thoughtful. "So many interpretations to be lavished there. Yes, I did miss you. Perhaps this time I won't." There was movement in the shadows. Both Niko and I looked at it, angled out bodies towards it. "You may have slowed in your old age, little goat. Be assured I have not." The movement began to resolve into a shape.

I was wrong when I'd figured Abbagor would have the soulless gaze of Eden's resident serpent. He had no eyes at all. I was still quite certain he knew exactly where we were and how fast our pulses throbbed in our throats. Abbagor descended slowly on thick dark grey filaments like old wet spiderwebbing. I'd never really seen a troll, but my mental picture definitely didn't match what I was seeing: Abbagor was vaguely man-shaped, and seemed to be made out of thousands of grey fleshy cords knotted and twisted around themselves, flexing and twitching and _crawling_. It was absolutely gag-worthy and I was seriously rethinking eating any kind of pasta _ever again_.

"Holy shit," I muttered to Niko's bicep.

"Interesting," Niko agreed, without moving from in front of me.

Robin sketched a salute upwards with a broad, artificial grin. "Abbagor, you're looking good. You been working out? You seem...bigger than I remember."

Oh, great. If Abbagor had been on the ground, he'd have been at least nine feet tall and almost as broad. I had the sudden wild mental image of him simply dropping from the ceiling and squashing us. I choked back a highly inappropriate laugh, recalling a line from an old bedtime tale Niko used to read me:_ "I am Mr. Bear Squash-You-All-Flat!"_ Niko flicked me a glance, annoyed concern in the set of his brows. No I wasn't crazy I was just...not laughing and not killing us all. Robin gave me a look as well. The grin I sent him in return made his eyes widen and he shifted nervously. Niko was immune to any kind of grin I'd give so it was a little funny to watch Robin get nervous...well, more nervous.

"Abbagor, we're here to ask you about the Auphe, since you've been around longer than I have. Almost as long as the Auphe. If anyone knows anything about them, it would be you." Robin's words were smooth as oil.

"Slippery flattery from a slippery tongue," Abbagor returned, but came to rest on the ground. His tendrils coiled around him again, and I shuddered. "What do you care about the Auphe? They are nearly gone from this world, entertaining though they were."

Entertaining. Sure. Because mass murder and mayhem was fun as hell. Right. I shook my head and Niko shifted his weight, hiding me, keeping me safe.

Robin's excuse was light, and almost entirely true. It felt like betrayal despite all that. "I've heard of a half-Auphe cross. I want to know why they'd spawn with a human. They've never been my study of expertise, mind, but you know a great deal, Abbagor."

Why...because I certainly wasn't an accident. Robin had a point but I didn't like that he'd brought it up without discussing it with me first. Abbagor sniffed, ebon-rimmed nostrils flaring, and started talking. Death, destruction, mass murder and mayhem, yup. Predators without equal, outbred by their sheep; humans. Abbagor pointed out that the Auphe weren't exactly bright but nothing beat them for sheer fury. Something in the back of my head pushed against those words, said they were wrong. They were smarter than we were giving them credit for. I didn't really want to chase that thought, so I stopped thinking it. Something pale in the nest of Abbagor's rotten-grey tentacles made me stop paying attention to the talk, focusing on making out what it was. Pale and familiar shaped...

….oh fuck me sideways it was a _human hand_.

I think I said something out loud, but nobody was paying attention to me. Robin had just said something flattering. I was watching the hand - it was stroking slate-coloured flesh. A human hand with living-decaying flesh...and a little tattoo between the thumb and forefingers. A tiny red rose, and a name, "Lucy." I swallowed against the taste of bile and wondered how it was being kept alive. Were Abbagor's insides made of living flesh?

"Soylent Green is people, Nik," I whispered, voice just a little too high. I was starting to feel damn triggery, mouth dry, cold shakes winding through me.

"Fuck," he said, succinctly, and I'd missed a hell of a lot while checking out because here came Abbagor like a trainwreck. We were so screwed. Niko shoved me clear, and I scrambled in the mud, reaching for my guns. I hadn't found anything yet that a .45 bullet through the brain couldn't drop, and I was _really hoping_ Abbagor wouldn't be any different.

* * *

_In the darkest hole you'd be well advised_  
_Not to plan my funeral 'fore the body dies, yeah_  
_Come the morning light it's a see-through show_  
_What you may have heard and what you think you know, yeah_  
-"Grind," Alice in Chains


	9. Chapter Eight: Swept

**A/N: **I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 and Comuterale for their prompt reviews last chapter! Thanks also to halesgirl101 for reviewing, and the anonymous guest who left me kudos as well!

* * *

_**Chapter Eight:** Swept_

* * *

_Let the bodies hit the floor_  
_Let the bodies hit the floor_  
_Let the bodies hit the floor_  
_Let the bodies hit the floor_  
_Beaten, what for?_  
_Can't take much more_  
-"Bodies," Drowning Pool

* * *

Abbagor moved damn _fast_ for something so_ massive_. Niko sliced off crawling tentacles with the sword he'd drawn from under his coat; his ever-present katana. Robin had a sword out too; his was heavier and was probably a broadsword. Me, I had a pair of Glock 30s I intended to put to damn good use. If I could get a shot without risking a ricochet. That would be_ all_ we'd need and with my luck it'd be me the stray bullet hit.

Abbagor was fast but Niko was faster, even in the sucking mud. His blade danced in the dim slime-light and dropped flashlight's beam, his body shifting and swaying. Robin charged in from behind, but the troll was fuckall agile and darted away. I tracked and let off a series of shots, the report loud and echoing painfully in the large chamber.

Yeah I was going deaf one of these days, but hell, I'd_ live_ to be deaf!

Only one hit and Abbagor lunged towards me. I popped off another pair of shots, holding my ground, before Niko came lunging in with blade flashing. I couldn't shoot over him but I didn't have time: a long tendril snaked out and latched around my wrists. With a shocking snatch I was off my feet and flying through the air; I slammed into the concrete wall not ten feet away and dropped to the muddy floor in a stunned heap, head ringing with the impact. For a moment I couldn't even make the entire left side of my body function, only dimly aware of the pain.

Then I heard Robin cry out Niko's name. I looked up and Niko was dangling by his throat from Abbagor's giant hand; dangling and still feebly kicking because Niko would fight all the way down to unconsciousness in a chokehold. I forced my body to roll, up on my knees, and took aim. The first shot only clipped him but the second blew a hole right in Abbagor's wrist. The troll roared and Niko dropped into the mud. Robin darted in, slicing tentacles and with my heart in my mouth I lunged awkwardly through the sludge. Niko Niko _Niko_ but he was scrambling up, weak-kneed, sword back in hand.

I grabbed his shoulder, propped my arm over it, and took aim. Niko stayed tense and still for the moment he _needed_ to breathe, lips tinged blue and pale, a hand over his ear closest to the gun. I shot again, twice. Empty gun, and I moved to reholster it, reaching for the other.

Then Abbagor threw Robin and we all three crashed into the mud again. I shoved and Niko shoved and he got up just in time to whack off another set of tendrils...purple ichor sprayed everywhere and I yelped as it got on my face - it burned like acid. Abbagor was roaring...no, no, he was_ laughing._ Glad to know _someone_ was having fun. I sure wasn't!

Abbagor was laughing, and suddenly thousands of grey tendrils rushed out. They hit Niko, cocooned him, and snatched him away. In the blink of an eye he was just _gone_ and his sword was fallen in the muck for the second time today.

Fuck fuck_ fuck_ I was moving. I had to get to Niko had to save him.

Robin grabbed me, tried to pull me back.

Wrong move. I grabbed him in return and with a lithe twist Niko had taught me, I flung him straight at Abbagor. Let the troll eat _him_ - I was going to make Abbagor eat hot lead. Abbagor attacked Robin, laughing, and I_ ran_ with a strength I hadn't known I had, heart hammering, legs burning. I ran behind the troll and jumped, landed amongst the tentacles and _moved._ Up I climbed, 'till I reached a broad writhing shoulder. Abbagor twisted, and I plugged the muzzle of my Glock into the upswept, pointed vampire-bat ear. I held the trigger down and let the semi-automatic buck in my hand.

The result was just as spectacular as I wanted: the other side of Abbagor's head exploded into a fine mist of purple gore and splattered flesh; he convulsed wildly and I was thrown. I tumbled through the air, rolled in the mud, and was scrambling back towards the troll when he hit the ground. Gun still in hand, I slammed the hot muzzle against his forehead and blew out the rest of his brains with a single shot. Every writhing tentacle fell still, limp.

I whirled and clawed at the tentacles. Niko Niko _Niko_ I had to get to _Niko_ and I was barely aware of Robin's hands joining my own in the frantic search. I couldn't think beyond the white panic static of Niko's name in my head fuck fuck _fuck_ oh thank _God_ blonde hair and black leather. I grabbed both and heaved backwards, Robin leaping up to help. Niko slid free with a reluctant sucking sound that made me gag. Niko's face was dead white, his lips tinged blue, purple ichor streaked in his hair and across his face.

"Nik! _Nik_!" I shook him, hard.

Niko arched, coughed, and breathed. Relief slammed into me so hard I almost gagged again, starting to shake. Bloodshot grey eyes fluttered open for a moment only. Niko's right hand groped for his sword.

Robin slid it into his hand. There was a gash on Robin's forehead and his lips were pinched. "We should go. He's not dead yet." Robin's voice was brittle and his eyes wide. I believed him even if it seemed impossible.

"Oh fuck." I holstered my Glock and began to get up, trying to pull Niko up too. He came with a heave and a scramble, unsteady on his feet and still gasping open-mouthed for air. Robin reached out to steady him, and we moved. We moved a hell of a lot faster when we heard Abbagor twitch behind us. We ran. There's a lot to be said for living to fight another day. Robin took point, though after the stunt I'd pulled I was surprised he'd let a monster like me guard his back.

Niko boosted me out of the pit. It was easy to put my foot in his hand, let him loft me up to step on his shoulders. Long practise. I gained solid ground, Niko tossed me up a rope, and I found a handy column to brace against while he and Robin climbed up and out of Abbagor's lair. Where had Niko gotten the rope? From his coat, of course. Forget Joseph's coat of many colours. Niko had a coat of many-useful-and-lethal-things.

We all took stock. We were_ filthy_ and Niko was covered in purple blood and Robin only had half a sword left. I tried to wipe some of the mud from my face, and found I was still shaking. Hot damn. Robin shook his head and started walking. Niko paused him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Thanks," he said, and offered a little smile, his charming one he turned on for the girls. I was puzzled by that.

Robin nodded once, and kept walking.

I looked at Niko, confused. We hadn't learned anything, and that had been his swindling smile, not one that really meant 'I'll shank you when you're not looking bitch.' That was the one I'd expected, after not learning anything at all. But Niko shook his head, coughed, and with a wince sheathed his dirty blade. There wasn't any part of him clean enough to wipe it down. I didn't think there was any part of me that was clean, period!

We had a long, long walk home.

It wasn't like we could take the subway or a taxi looking like we did.

By the time we got home, the mud was crusted and half-dry and Niko had blisters across his face. He was moving tenderly, and I pointed him towards the shower first. He locked the front door, caught my arm, and dragged me along too. I was limping badly on my left side.

We stripped in the cramped bathroom, flinging dirty clothes to the floor. Niko hissed and swore and I did too when I saw the burns on his face, his shoulders, down his spine. They were raw and red and blistered, and he'd popped some of the fat blisters getting his shirt off. Into the shower he went. I stayed out, only in my boxers, and sorted clothes and emptied coat-pockets. We had long, _long_ since grown out of showering together unless it was a _really pressing need_, by which was meant it was a choice between death or cleanliness. I stacked weaponry on one side of the bath mat and clothes on the other. Our leather jackets were ruined entirely. Niko's shirt, soaked in purple ichor, was also a casualty of the clusterfuck of the afternoon.

Niko swore. I glanced at the shower-curtain.

"Fuck. Cal, I can't wash my hair. I can't raise my arms without popping these damn blisters."

Death or cleanliness or Niko's goddamn hair.

I kicked off my boxers and slid in behind him. He was right - the way his shoulders were blistered... He was leaning away from the spray, not nearly as hot as I would have liked it but definitely hot enough for burned skin. I grabbed the bottle of Niko's cheap-and-easy homemade shampoo. Apple cider vinegar was cheaper than shampoo and honestly Niko doted on his hair. "Bend over, you tall bastard," I ordered, gathering up his hair with the other hand.

"Short little bitch," he retorted, bending, reaching up gingerly to help gather his hair up.

"Elephant-nosed git."

"Reading Harry Potter again? Ten points from Slytherin, little monster."

"Anteater!" I snorted, and washed. I hoped the troll blood wouldn't hurt his hair too much - he'd be miserable to live with if he had to cut it. The sharp scent of the vinegar was clearing my sinuses and with the rancid mud-troll-stench being washed away I was starting to feel better. With Niko alive and tossing insults, I felt much better. I helped Niko rinse his hair out. Wet and not in a braid it was past his butt; there was a lot to rinse, thick and heavy. At last we were done, and he straightened, hair pulled over the least-burned shoulder.

Niko turned, caught my wrist almost gently, and pulled. I shifted around until he could look at my left side. He touched the point of my shoulder, looked down at my hip, both turning a fresh purple now from being thrown into the wall. His lips twitched and I turned to let him see my back, my right side, front again and held out both my arms. He touched a yellowing handprint on my upper arm, then the tentacle-marks on my wrists bruising fresh. He shook his head and got out of the shower. I cranked up the hot water to a few degrees shy of 'scalding' and finished washing up myself. Hot water is _bliss._ When at last I got out, Niko had wound his hair up in a twist, leaning on the counter with a towel around his waist. I grabbed my own towel and helped him pin his hair up on the top of his head.

Next up, first aid. We had bandages of all kinds, gauze and tape and sterile gloves, aloe and antibiotics. Niko shook his head at the aloe, and I did my best to dab on the antibiotic ointment gently. Niko's lips thinned and he trembled where he stood, but he didn't move. I stuck the bandages on carefully, and at last taped them down. They were shockingly white against his olive-tinted skin. I went after the painkillers next, stripping off the sterile gloves. I rattled out two pills and offered them to Niko. He debated, carefully, and took one. Then it was my turn to get ointment on my face, though the burns were barely there compared to his. But Niko always took care of me.

We went to get clothes, then oil and rags for weapon-cleaning. We each sat at the table, after I'd spread towels over the surface, and started working on our respective weapons. Niko was shirtless, and moved slowly, sipping from a tumbler of vodka. (Yeah mixing pain pills and alcohol was a bad idea but Niko always did it anyway.) I moved slowly, too, but only because my left side was stiffening up and turning purple. I stripped the guns and started a thorough cleaning and oiling. Niko was doing the same for his blades. He started humming Nirvana, which was a sure sign he was trying not to think. Niko was more a heavy-metal sort of guy and I was the one who listened to grunge. So I hummed a few bars of a Nine Inch Nails song. Niko glanced up at me and his lips quirked into a smile. He still looked paler than usual, pain bracketing his mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts," I offered, and reached for the vodka.

" 'Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before,' " he said, the rhythm of his words song-like, his stilted tone quoting something as he passed the drink over. I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head stiffly and continued. " 'But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token. And the only word there spoken was the whispered word 'Lenore!' ' "

" 'Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore',' " I added, catching on, and tossed back some of the alcohol, the smell stinging my nose. "That bad, huh?" Poe was dreary reading. I passed the drink back.

"Bad enough," Niko returned as he took the glass. He set it down, bending to his sword again.

I slid one of my Glocks back together with a heartening_ ka-chack._ Music to my ears. I reloaded the magazine, pushing in the slick bullets one-by-one. Ten exactly and I slipped the magazine into the gun. I cocked the slide back, heard the bullet slide home, and flicked the safety on. Next gun. "Seriously, Nik."

I tapped his bony bare foot with mine. He eyed me balefully, then sighed, sitting back and reaching for his vodka. He finished it off in a single swallow. "I think I know now how Jonah felt, swallowed whole." He held up his katana, all clean, and started to work on the sheath. "I think Jonah had more breathing room in the belly of the whale, though - more room and fewer raping tentacles pressing at his face and none of a thousand damned voices telling him he was welcomed to Hell."

I swallowed. Yeah, okay, that bad. Niko's voice had gone flat and dull; he never blocked me out but this was damn close to it. "Nevermore, Nik."

Niko flashed me a wan smile. "Nevermore," he agreed. "Mind an extra sword in the bed tonight?"

"As long as it stays on your side," I retorted, trying for playful. I didn't think I made it. Niko let the smile drop and looked at me with tired eyes; I could see the pain and unease and lingering fear. I bit my lower lip. I didn't like that look on Niko but the honesty was all for me. I'd asked and now I knew and a small part of me wished I didn't. Knowing your damn-near-invincible brother was rattled to his very core was just not something that rested easy on your soul.

"I'll do my best," he answered, and went back to his task. I bent over my gun and started working. I could do it fast, but Niko could always do it faster; he didn't use guns on a regular basis or even like them all that much but he could outshoot me anyday. He could strip a gun and clean it - I could take apart a sword and do the same. I'd never be a proficient swordsman and I didn't give a damn. I had good guns and they'd helped me win the day and save my brother.

I still felt chilled, and it wasn't just my wet hair on the back of my neck.

Weapons cleaned, ruined clothes bagged for discarding, we washed up one last time and went to bed. Niko laid on his stomach, and I pressed just close enough to touch on places that weren't bandaged. We both laid awake for a long time, breathing in the dark. I knew because Niko's breathing was so controlled, and he knew because I started breathing to match him.

The hours whiled by and eventually I fell asleep.

I woke with a gasp when Niko nudged my bruised hip. I instinctively lashed out against the pain; Niko woke with a startled curse, and I realized he'd been dreaming. Nightmares or something else and he struck at me. He clipped my shoulder and I hollered, pain spiking down my side, locking my body rigid on the sheets. Then Niko was on me, a heavy hard weight, and his hands closed around my neck. I thrashed in a spike of panic, heedless now of the pain, as his hands clamped down on my throat and choked me.

I fought to get in a breath and instinctively struggled, bucking, hands clawing at his wrists. I couldn't see anything couldn't smell anything only feel the weight of him straddling my hips and the pressure like an iron band on my throat _fuck_ I couldn't breathe couldn't _breathe_ and it was starting to get painful. Darkness scudded over my mind, my struggles losing force, and the blood sang high and strange in my ears.

No breath _no air_ fuck Niko _Niko_ can't breathe...!

Darkness sucked me down.


	10. Chapter Nine: Ally

**A/N: **I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece!

We deviate sharply from canon here, and I was uncertain about this chapter. But in the end I decided that it fit well enough - and besides, we were already so far away from canon that we couldn't touch it with a long pole! (Or even Goodfellow's dick.)

Thanks to halesgirl101 for the uber prompt review! Thanks also to Comuterale and Kin-outcast1 for reviewing!

* * *

_**Chapter Nine:** Ally_

* * *

_Your magic, white rabbit, your white room, straightjacket_  
_Your magic, white rabbit, has left its writing on the wall_  
_We follow, like Alice, and just keep diving down the hole_  
_We're falling and we're losing control_  
_You're pulling us, you're dragging us down this dead-end road_  
-"White Rabbit," Egypt Central

* * *

I woke up coughing, throat burning. I reached up, touched cold, and Niko's voice in my ear rumbled low and soothing. "Shh, little brother. Be still."

Stilling, I relaxed back into warmth. Eyes closed, I breathed through a burning throat and felt Niko's heartbeat against my back. We were...half sitting up, still in bed, my back against his chest. I stirred again, felt him shift the icepack at my neck. Memories, hazy and thick, crept back. Niko had choked me out. That...wasn't a usual thing. It was dangerous, could kill easily, and Niko only beat me, never tried to kill me. (Bad times it started to feel like he was, but...)

His own voice was hoarse, I belatedly realized. Abbagor had choked him too. Had he been dreaming? Attacked me for waking him from a nightmare?

"Nik?" I rasped.

"Hush," he commanded, and kissed the top of my head. He stroked my hair affectionately and that was almost enough to relax me right back into sleep. I stirred again, and he clicked his tongue warningly. He kept stroking my hair, over and over, holding the icepack to my neck. It occurred to me he had a timer going or something. So I went still again, and let the petting work.

I was drowsing, half-asleep, when he moved the ice-pack. He moved stiffly, and I heard a soft clink of coffee-mug. I didn't smell coffee though, only tea and honey and the faintest whiff of lemon and whiskey. That Niko had been up already and I hadn't woken just didn't bother me. It happened a lot. I was too used to him. It was the same reason I was still lying heavy against him, eyes closed. He touched my shoulder gently, moving slow.

"Drink," he ordered, and pressed the cup to my lips. Green tea and honey and lemon and yup, whiskey. Without opening my eyes, I drank, in slow painful sips. The honey was good for my throat though, and the faint afterburn of whiskey was fine by me. It was supposed to help a sore throat, too, but hell if I knew why. Probably just made you not care as much... Niko got me to drink about half and then I wanted something else. I turned away, and tipped my head back to look up at him. It made my neck throb, and I tensed. Niko muttered and touched gently on my throat. How he_ knew_ exactly what muscles to press to make the tension and pain go away, I'd never know.

"Ow. Nik, okay?" I asked, softly.

"Yeah. I'll live. So will you," he answered, and gave me a pained smile.

"Ow." I felt it was worth repeating. Niko kissed my forehead, a dry brush of lips. I pulled the cover up higher, using my right arm. I knew already my left side was going to be stiff and sore as _all hell_. "Cold."

"Yeah. A cold-front rolled through last night. It may snow later." Niko sipped at the tea he still held.

"Snow...in October...who'da thunk?" I rasped.

Niko snorted. "You're the one who wanted to live up North," he teased, gently. He reached around me to arrange the blankets, though. "Robin's found us a car. He's bringing it by after lunch. Do you want to be up by then or just stay in bed?"

Well, that meant I was excused from chores. Either Niko felt guilty or he just plain felt like shit. From the stiff way he was moving, I was betting it was the latter. Hell, _I_ felt like shit, and I hadn't even played Jonah yesterday. "I'll get up," I answered. United front and all that jazz.

Niko snorted, and coughed a little. "Right. Finish your tea, little monster."

"Bastard." But I drank the tea obediently. I was a good little monster, see?

Getting up was agony. Seriously, I was black and blue from shoulder to hip, it was freakin'_ cold_, and I was stiff as hell. I dressed in sweatpants and an old turtleneck, and shuffled around in thick socks for a while feeling like I was about eighty damn years old. Fuck, I never wanted to get old. Niko, on the other hand, was almost back to normal. He didn't bother to hide the bruising on his throat. I painted up my face again to hide my matching cheek-bruises, and retreated to the couch with my electric blanket and a cup of hot coffee. There was pretty much nothing good on TV before lunch, and I ended up stuck on the news forecast. From freak hot-weather to cold-snap. Holy _hell_ it was cold and it was going to get colder. I hunched up under my blanket and seriously thought about moving to Florida.

Robin was a little early; I'd traded my coffee for a mug of hot soup and crackers when he came knocking. Niko answered the door, soup-bowl in hand and hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He nodded to Robin. "Come inside and warm up a bit before we go look at it," he offered, smiling pleasantly.

Niko thought Robin could make a hell of an ally. I had thought about it and I had to agree with him. So Niko was being nice, friendly, charming. I was going to make an effort as well but _nice_ didn't come easy to me. So I waved and went back to watching Charlie's Angels.

Robin shrugged out of his coat. "Thanks. I...didn't expect you to call me after yesterday."

" 'The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley.' You were trying to help, and that's not something that happens often to us," Niko told him, and shrugged very lightly. "Especially after anyone finds out about Cal."

Yeah, our list of helpers was hella short. I shrugged a little. "Hey, uh, Robin...sorry about yesterday. I, uh, I kinda flipped out."

Robin eyed me soberly, and his words surprised me. "All you had to do was ask, Caliban. I'm something of a coward, but I would have stood firm. You only had to ask."

I was startled, and Niko raised his eyebrows behind Robin's back. I swallowed, felt the burn, and nodded. Robin was still watching me, and I realized why he was here, why he'd come back. He was_ lonely._ It wasn't any sense of obligation or even the business that had dragged him back, it was the pleading sorrowful look in those green eyes. A starving look I recognized - I'd wanted friends badly enough over the years.

"We are...not used to help. Of any kind. Let alone willing help," Niko said, softly. He stepped closer, touched Robin's shoulder in passing. "Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, coffee, something stronger?"

Robin looked at him, then quirked a grin. "Irish coffee, if you have it."

"Whiskey and coffee and sugar we have, but no cream. Can you make do with milk?" Niko returned, smiling back, tone pleasant and friendly.

Within short order, Robin and Niko were at the table, drinks fixed. I decided to stay under my blanket, but I muted the television. Vague comments on the cold came and went, and Robin got right to the issue at hand. "Why are you leaving? It's not Abbagor, is it?"

Niko shook his head, and glanced at me. "Cal?" he asked.

It was a show for Robin. Niko never needed to ask me for permission - he talked freely. But I nodded. "He should know. Since he wants to help. Tell him all of it."

Which Niko would _not_ but it was a grand gesture of good faith.

We'd play Robin like a violin. We'd been taught by the best. And Robin wanted friends. Easy mark. I was a little uncomfortable with the deception but I'd agreed to it already. I just hadn't expected Robin to be so easy.

Niko nodded, and turned to Robin, grey eyes grave. "The Auphe are after Cal. There was one in Kissena Park a few days ago. I killed it but they've caught our trail again, after all these years."

Robin turned distinctly pale. He muttered something in some other language. "You killed it?"

"Very dead," Niko assured him.

Robin shook his head. "Abbagor's big and homicidal, but for sheer deviousness, you do not want to screw with the Auphe. They're psychotic, they hold a grudge, and they're mobile as the plague." He ran his hands through his hair. "I guess you know that better than anyone if they're chasing you. Why are they after the two of you?"

"They're after Cal. They took him from me once. I'm going to do my damndest to make sure it doesn't happen again." Niko's voice turned to steel and fury. "They won't have him again. They won't_ hurt_ him again."

I squirmed a little under my blanket. I didn't like the reminder. That was why Niko was talking about it, and not me. Listening was bad enough; if I tried to explain, I'd probably trigger myself into a goddamned panic attack. Always fun for everyone involved!

Robin glanced at me, curiosity stark in his gaze. "They took him? Took him where? And how'd you get him back?"

"They took him to their world. And he fought his way back to me." Niko's hands were blanched white around his cup, his body tense, slightly-hoarse voice firm. There was a fire in his eyes, fierce and hot. "I _will not_ let it happen a second time."

"They took him to Tumulus?" Robin's voice was incredulous, and I winced at the name. Tumulus, I remembered something like that from Niko's research of the _aes sidhe_. "They say time runs differently there...did he...?"

"As far as I can figure, it was two years of absolute hell for him," Niko answered. "And only two days for me. When he came back, Robin, when he came back..." Niko's voice twisted, his face full of pain. "They'd broken him so badly. He didn't know me. I will_ never_ let it happen again."

Robin drained his whiskey-backed coffee, then reached for the whiskey bottle straight. I felt a little like I wanted a shot myself. Instead I started reciting the parts to my gun, mentally field-stripping it. I only vaguely heard Robin ask, "Why do they want him?"

"I don't know, and neither does he. He's managed to forget what they did to him, forget his time there."

"Do you think if he remembered, there might be a clue in his memories?"

"I don't know. He can't remember, anyway."

Robin was quiet a moment. I finished mentally stripping my gun and started putting it back together, checking out entirely for a few minutes, eyes open but staring at nothing. It was a nice feeling, getting away from the tension and the growing creeping idea that I might panic. I hated feeling triggery. Niko's voice bumped me back into reality, just by being his voice. I always listened to him.

"You'll have to ask him, but I do not think it's a good idea. Know that you will answer to me if something goes wrong, Robin, and when it comes to Cal I do not forgive." Niko stood, and crossed to me. Robin trailed along, nodding, looking thoughtful. Niko sat beside me on the couch. I freed a corner of blanket and tossed it over his lap, habitually sharing. He cradled the back of my neck, fingertips digging into the bruises there, and pulled me closer. I swayed to him and he kissed me on the forehead. He met my gaze, then looked at Robin and nodded.

Robin had taken a seat on the coffee table in front of us, elbows on his knees. "Cal, I'd like to see if I could help you recover your memories. There might be a clue in them as to why the Auphe want you."

Oh yes, that was going to go over well. I looked at Niko. "You did tell him about the flashbacks, the panic attacks, and the nightmares, right?" I asked, dryly.

"I got you through it once. I can do it again." Niko smiled softly at me. "I'll be right here. And the second it looks like anything is going wrong, I'll make him stop it."

Well, with that ringing endorsement... I looked at Robin. "What makes you think you could do it?"

Robin snorted, waved a hand dismissively, and when he smiled his green eyes were cheerfully honest. "Who do you think taught Freud? I picked up the art of hypnosis long before Svengali gave anyone the evil eye. I'm more proficient at this than the most celebrated psychiatrist or hypnotherapist."

Idle boasting or hard facts?

I looked at Niko, felt his hand resting firmly on the back of my neck. I didn't like the idea, but if Niko was going to keep me safe (like always) and he thought there was a clue...hell, what did I have to lose? Only the rest of my mind and half the time I didn't use it anyway, to hear Niko tell it. I took a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay. What do I have to do?"

"Nothing," Robin told me. "Just listen to me." He was deadly serious now, calm and cool. It was so like Niko's steady calm that I felt reassured. Okay. Robin started talking, softly, and I

blanked

out

.

Niko was talking, a long soft stream of nonsense. Reassuring, quiet. My face was buried in his neck, my arms choking-tight around his neck. I sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, tasted blood. Niko's blood, human blood and I shuddered.

"Shhh, shh, Cal, I'm here," Niko crooned, shifting. I flinched, drew tight, what was threat not-threat and Niko's hand touched my face.

_Prey_ Niko_ prey_ and I instinctively snapped after the touch, sank my teeth deep.

Niko grunted and didn't move and I could smell him taste him Niko and I drew back hands fisted in his shirt. Niko talked, soft, calm, shaping my name over and over. He was here. All was well, he said, over and over. I was starting to shake and I didn't know why. I was...confused, but I didn't feel _bad_. I sat back slowly, looked Niko in the eye. He smiled, perfect reassurance.

"Wh-wh-what ha-happ-ppend?" I managed. I was shaking so hard now I could barely talk.

"Nothing. All is well, Cal, it's alright. I'm here. Nothing happened. Do you remember anything? Think," he instructed, and started humming an old lullabye.

Remember what? Why was I shaking so bad if nothing had happened? Why had I bitten him? _Do you remember?_

Like the click of a gun being cocked, _I did._

The scream echoing in my ears was my own, as I collided back into Niko, face against his collarbones, shaking convulsively. Desperately I shoved at the memories, tried to stuff them back in the little black box they'd come from nononono_no don't make me no don't make me do it!_

Niko snatched at me, and the jarring impact of a ringing slap knocked every thought flat.

I opened my mouth, gasped. He clapped his palm over my lips, and reflexively I bit at him. Flesh _Niko_ and I let go again without breaking skin. Niko Niko Niko was here was telling me to be quiet with hard grey eyes like the line of a sword. I swallowed hard and shook like I was coming to pieces 'cause I was I was it was too much I didn't want to know didn't want to remember and Niko shook me lightly. I focused on him on the only _real thing_ I'd ever had.

"Hush," Niko said, calmly. "Tell me why they want you, Cal. Go slow. Take your time."

I wanted to laugh but if I started I didn't think I'd ever_ stop_ and instead I tried so hard to breathe when he took his hand away. Slow _go slow_ Niko was breathing deep and even and I tried to match it. _Go slow._ Niko Niko Niko _go slow._ Breathe.

"I'm-m-m th-the k-kuh-k-key," I stammered out, teeth chattering. "I c-c-can tr-travel l-like...like..."

The fear slammed into me like an unexpected sucker punch and I clawed at Niko, screamed and he snatched me close. "_Don't make me don't make me it hurts IT HURTS DON'T MAKE ME!_" Against his neck hear-feel his pulse taste of flesh and blood oh God Jesus Christ Almighty.

I retched.

In a dizzying shift Niko bundled me over and I threw up on the floor, right between Robin's fancy shoes. I gagged, spat, panted for breath. Niko's hands were sure and steady, and he scooped me back up, like I was little again, tucked me against his side and held my head to his shoulder. I was shaking so hard I thought my bones would rattle apart.

"Shhh, shh. You're safe. Shhh, shh. I have you. Cal, Cal, little monster, I have you," Niko said, singsong soft. "I have you."

Calm like a blanket - no the heated blanket he was wrapping around me, bundling me up and instincts screamed about_ traps_ but I could_ smell Niko_ and he hurt me but he kept me safe safe _safe_ and I pressed against his side. He murmured softly, lowly, and held me tightly. I could hardly move except for shaking, couldn't get away and couldn't attack him, wrapped too tightly in the blanket.

I realized I was crying. When had I started? What was wrong with me?

Too much _too much_ and too late to put it all back.

Niko matter-of-factly wiped my face with the corner of his sleeve.

"Niko, I...I think this was a mistake. I can try to seal up the memories again," Robin said. I couldn't look at him. If I looked away from Niko I might get lost again.

Niko's jaw was relaxed, the arch of his neck steady. "No. Let him be. He'll get settled in a moment. Though you could bring a wet towel to put over the vomit." He looked down at me, grey gaze unshakable. I heard Robin get up, smelled the shift in his scent as he went away. Niko started humming again, reached up and started petting my hair. The rhythm brought me back to this morning (so long ago) and I shuddered. I breathed, and I felt the tension going away. Niko was here. Niko was here. He was alive and real and he was here.

Robin came back, started mopping up the floor. I flicked a glance at him, looked up again at Niko.

"Easy," Niko murmured. "All is well."

"A-all is d-d-damned fuck-cked u-up, Nik," I managed, voice hoarse and gone to a whisper.

Niko snorted, and his arm around me tightened briefly. "Very well, if you say so, little monster. Why?"

Because I was the key. I could travel. And that was all I knew. They'd made me into _one of them_ for two long years. I was a monster and Niko loved me and was keeping me safe. I tried to say it, tried to get the words out. They tangled, thumped against my teeth, and I stopped, frustrated. Niko pinched me on the wrist, just enough to hurt. I tried again.

"I...they want..." and I stopped, shocked, throat stinging. What?

Robin's head snapped up and around so fast I thought he might break his neck. He muttered some curse. "You can speak their language?"

I shook my head. Niko, however, was raising an eyebrow at me. "Say it again," he prompted, firmly.

"They want me to be their key," I said, voice twisting over the words, like glass and acid and flaming napalm. Robin paled and Niko looked intrigued. I tried again, and with relief found English. "They want me to be their key. That's...that's all they said."

"Well, now we know you can speak Auphe," Niko commented, lightly. "That could have been your language credit instead of Spanish."

I made a noise and wasn't sure if it was a laugh or a sob. "T-too soon, Nik."

Niko shrugged. "You need tea for your throat. Think you can stand?"

I dragged in a breath, thought about it. Yeah. I nodded, and Niko got to his feet, half pulling me with him. I wiped my snotty face on my sleeve as he shook the blanket free. Then I almost walked on his heels the entire way into the kitchen. Niko probably expected it - I'd spent the better part of a year as a Cal-shaped limpet attached to his arm after I'd come back from Hell. Niko said nothing, only waited to make the tea until after I'd rinsed my mouth off, washed my face down. I could still smell-taste his blood. His sleeve was torn in two places along his wrist, a bruise shaping on the heel of his right hand.

Niko made tea, and he put honey and whiskey and lemon in mine, and we all went back to sit on the couch, even Robin. I sat so close to Niko I was practically in his lap. I couldn't help it - I was afraid if I moved too far away I'd vanish and Niko would be gone. If I was with Niko I couldn't be taken, and logically no that wasn't how it worked but I was past listening to logic and rational reasoning.

"Shouldn't you take care of the bites?" Robin asked.

"In a minute," Niko replied.

"They're quite deep."

"He's dealt me worse." Niko offered a wry smile. I drank my tea and decided I felt like I was balanced on raw eggs. As long as I sat still nothing was gonna go splat, but the second I jumped up and down...hell. Yeah my brain was inches away from being _goddamn broken_ instead of just plain_ fucked up_. Niko shrugged a little, and looked at me. "Cal. Are we leaving tonight?"

I started to say yes. An egg cracked.

"...no. They know where I am. I know where they are." I grimaced and wished I _didn't._

Robin and Niko exchanged glances. Niko looked back at me. "Schooling instinct?"

"More...internal locator?" I just knew, could sense it. I shivered and pressed closer to Niko. "They're playing with us. Might as well stay here." They'd been playing with us _all along_ and I'd _forgotten_ about it. My hands were shaking, the tea in my mug sloshing.

Niko steadied the cup. "Cal. Breathe."

Easier said than done. Fuck.

Robin cleared his throat. "The question is what they really want you for. Saying that you're the key implies they have a plan, but I never gathered they were much for planning."

"They plan the hunts," I said, and it didn't really even sound like me, voice dull and almost calm. I breathed and drank my tea. "Niko, I think I may turn vegetarian."

Niko didn't ask why. Instead he prompted, "We tried that. You lost so much weight you scared me, remember?"

Yeah. I remembered. And I remembered being so very hungry and completely unable to eat meat at all, unable to stand the smell. I just couldn't exist on salad and tofu. Shit. I shut my eyes and breathed. The key, they wanted me, wanted to make me into one of _them_ and I couldn't. I couldn't. I just...no. Never. I wasn't a monster like they were - I was my own kind of monster. I shivered and hid my face in the hollow of Niko's shoulder. He reached up to stroke my hair.

"So we know more, but not enough. Well, at least we know they're pleased to hold off for a while." Niko sighed deeply. "Robin, what do you know about monsters that haunt mirrors? There's no connection to the Auphe there, is there?"

Today was obviously the day for zoning out entirely. While Niko and Robin talked, I went away.

Sleep crashed down on me soon enough.

Going crazier than usual was exhausting work.


	11. Chapter Ten: Reset

**A/N: **I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece!

Thanks to Obi the Kid for the uber-prompt review! Thanks also to Kin-outcast1, halesgirl101, and Comuterale for reviewing! You guys are awesome!

* * *

_**Chapter Ten:** Reset_

* * *

_It's a thief in the night to come and grab you_  
_It can creep up inside you and consume you_  
_A disease of the mind, it can control you_  
_I feel like a monster_  
-"Disturbia," Rihanna

* * *

I woke up bundled in Niko's arms. He was carrying me to bed. I lifted my head off his shoulder. He stopped and looked down at me. "Hey," he greeted, softly.

"Hey." I hadn't dreamed. I was surprised by that. I'd half-expected nightmares of epic proportions. "Robin?"

"Left for now. He's going to talk to some people, though. And he swears he'll bring me better whiskey tomorrow." Niko raised an eyebrow. "I think he's attempting to court me."

That startled a laugh out of me. Niko was straight as they came. The idea was, hell, ludicrous. "He'll be disappointed. Down?"

Niko let me down onto my feet. I wobbled a little, found my balance. I felt...weirdly calm again, balanced on my eggs. I looked up at Niko. He brushed a thumb over my bruised cheek, then dug it in until the bruise burned and my eyes watered. There, that felt more normal, after all the affectionate goop we'd flung at Goodfellow. I looked down at his wrist, bandaged well. I touched the gauze.

"Will it scar?" I asked, knowing he had scars from my teeth already.

"Do you want it to?"

I shied away from the question, the implications. Sometimes Niko got a little too sick, a little too broken for me to stand. I shook my head mutely. No, no I didn't want it to scar because if _I_ wanted it to scar Niko would make me help him force it to scar. That was the one habit of his I really just couldn't stomach.

Niko nodded. "No. It won't. How about yourself?"

"I..." What _did_ I feel like? Was it going to scar? A little late to ask that question, maybe. I shook my head, a little, reached up to rub at my sore throat. "I think I'm going insane."

Niko made a contemplative humming noise. "I think, if anything, you've suddenly become very sane. Very focused." He pinched the back of my neck until my eyes watered and my knees buckled. God_damn_ that stung.

"I don't think I like it much, either way." I shifted my weight and scowled as my bladder made it known that it was very full, thanks. "I'm hungry and I gotta piss."

Niko rolled his eyes. "Midnight snacks it is. Need me to go with you?"

I hesitated, until he pulled my Walther PPK from his back pocket and handed it to me. I grinned at him, thankful, and shoved the gun into the waistband of my sweats. He nodded and turned to go to the kitchen. I had a paralyzing moment of wild terror and had to throttle the urge to chase after him, grab his arm and _hang on._

I'd spent almost a year like that. I was over it, right? I could stand a few minutes apart.

I really,_ really_ had to piss.

That more than anything was what decided me. I went alone, in the dark, and shook only a little. I did my dirty deed and was about to wash my hands when I heard it.

A soft humming started, perfectly melodic. It was easy to hear in the quiet bathroom. In an instant my gun was in my hand, the safety off. I looked around wildly, but I couldn't see anything. Nobody but me was here...

….me and Alice, I realized, raising my eyes to the mirror.

There was nothing reflected_ in_ the mirror but I could tell that was where the humming was coming from. The foregone conclusion was that I'd gone crazy at last. Niko's confident words told me different and after dragging in a gasping breath, I managed to get out his name in a hoarse dry whisper. He'd never hear that, I was a goner, the mirror-monster was probably going to eat me or suck me into Wonderland and he'd never know because it was just like one of those awful awful nightmares where I couldn't make a sound...

Niko came charging down the hall with a sword drawn.

How he'd heard me I'll _never_ know.

He came to a perfect halt on a dime just before the threshold. His eyes widened. I looked at the mirror, gun trained on the glass, and looked back at him. Niko nodded, and stepped into the room.

The humming stopped.

Niko and I looked at eachother, and he walked up to look in the mirror. There was nothing there, only our reflections. Holy hell, I'd had no idea my eyes could get that big - I looked like a terrified Furby. Niko examined the glass, then raised his hand and slammed the hilt of his sword into the mirror. It shattered with a terrific crash and I nearly jumped into the tub. I hadn't expected that and it had been _loud!_ Niko examined his handiwork, then tapped a few more times to shatter the whole surface into crazy cracks and glittering shards.

"Fuck off, Alice," he said, with all seriousness, to the remains of the mirror.

I snorted, then burst out laughing. It was so _absurd_ I just couldn't help it. I laughed and laughed and all of a sudden I was crying too and Niko slapped me open-handed. It made more noise than hurt and I coughed, stopped crying, and blinked at him with my face wet with tears and snot.

"Wipe your face and go eat your supper. I'll clean this up," Niko instructed.

Shaking, I tucked my Walther back in the waistband of my paints and did as he said. Weirdly, I felt better. I sat down at the kitchen table and ate the grilled cheese sandwich he'd made me and drank my milk. Yeah, I thought, I did feel better. Freaked out as all _fuck_, yes. Well aware the Auphe were on my tail and wanted me, well aware I was a kind of monster - a half-breed freak - that no-one should ever try to protect. But Niko was. Niko was protecting me with all he had, and he wouldn't ever stop. He loved me too much to ever give me up. And that was a sappy thought but hell, it was true and it was comforting.

By the time Niko rejoined me in the kitchen, I wasn't shaking anymore. I finished off the milk and looked up at him as he reached for the vodka in the cabinet, moving stiffly.

Oh shit, his burns!

"Hey, whoa, your burns..."

Niko shook his head and uncapped the bottle of vodka. He took a long pull. "You popped most of the blisters holding onto me earlier. Robin helped me rebandage them. From all the comments he made about my 'damn fine ass,' I think he enjoyed it a little too much."

I blinked. "Ew."

Chuckling, Niko nodded, and offered me the bottle. "Agreed. Think we can go to bed now, Cal?"

I got up, took the bottle, and drank. Burn of alcohol and it seared my sinuses like acid. I passed the bottle back and tugged on his ponytail, a loose handful of thick silk. "We can try." I didn't know if I would sleep, or if I'd be having nightmares. Niko just nodded, and tilted the bottle back.

We went to bed. I spent the rest of the night staring blankly at the bedroom door, one hand on the grip of my gun, and listening to Niko breathe deep and slow in sleep.

Niko went to work in the morning. I did my chores. Niko came home at lunch and stayed home. We did a little sparring, which went badly because we were both sore and stiff and aching all over...but there was just this sense of_ pressure_ on us. We had to do something. I mean, hell, the Auphe had found us and we weren't running. Niko was ready to take a hammer and nails to the windows, but I stopped him. It didn't matter, I told him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"They can travel." I swallowed. "Gating, they call it. That's what they did when they took me. When I came back."

Niko frowned a little. "That tear?"

"Tear in reality, yeah." I took a deep breath. Tried not to shake. "Gates. They can gate anywhere they want. Anywhere they've seen."

Niko considered this, and nodded. "What about you?"

I couldn't help the flinch, hands flying to the jagged scars that striped my shoulders; scars from barbed Auphe-claws. I swallowed hard. Niko reached out and laid his hands over mine, holding my arms crossed over my own chest. I took a deep breath, smelling him, feeling the steady strength in his calloused hands. "I can. They made me. But it hurts, Nik, it hurts bad." Like my head was going to split open.

Niko nodded, slowly. "I see." He stood there a moment, gaze meeting mine. There was a hardness in his gaze, a fire too. This...planning a fight, shifting resources, getting ready to kill; this was something he loved and it just lit him up. He would have made a hell of a war general, my brother. I felt a little hope rise at the thought, and pride. My brother would do all he could to save me.

We collected weapons, cleaned them. Armed ourselves.

And then I remembered I was signed up to go to work tonight.

Niko and I discussed it, and Niko decided I should go, at least for a little while. Make a pretense at normality. Said it was good for my psyche. I wanted to know how soul-shaking paranoia was good for my psyche, and he gave me a goddamn atomic wedgie.

After _that_ I decided going out to face the Auphe was probably safer for my balls.

With guns, knives, and some liquid courage inside me, I set off for work.

I was nervous but hell, what else could I do? I was jumpy and twitchy but I was going, and all by myself! What a big boy! Yeah maybe I was just a little drunk. Mixed drinks, Niko and I could mix with the best of them. We'd been doing it since we were both under the age of twelve. Thus, I was a bartender, and a damn good one. I took the subway for a little while, then shouldered my way through the crowded streets and headed into the bar. The doors were unlocked but Merry had been supposed to open...

...blood. Blood thick and heavy in the air.

Oh _fuck._

I was shaking again. My feet were moving on their own. Closer to the smell instead of _away_ oh fuck what if it wasn't the Auphe? (But I knew it was.) Blood and blood and long red hair.

Merry.

Merry dead and gutted and ripped nearly to shreds, spread over Talley's desk like a sacrifice on an altar. Her throat was slashed to the bone. Her skin was shredded and her internal organs draped down the sides of the desk. Talley himself was on the floor, intestines spilling out across the floor, the rank smell of shit and blood everywhere. Dead as dead, and so was I for standing here staring at the drying gore. Faces I'd known, _people_ I'd known, dead at the hands of monsters I was bred from. Dead and dead and I'd good as killed them. I was dead too, I needed to _run_...

A gate opened and an Auphe stepped out. It bared adamantine teeth at me, and drew ebony claws through Merry's tacky blood. "Cal-i-ban," it grated. "No more running, wretched boy."

I could smell it over the blood, a scent that wasn't even unpleasant: wet leaves, damp earth, the acrid sizzle of ozone after a lightning strike. It was grinning in a hungry eager way, red eyes gleaming. I was absolutely fucked.

I felt the others come in, but I had already spun on my heel. Time to make like a bat out of hell. I was charging towards the door when an Auphe pounced in front of me. My knife was in my hand before I could think about it; I slashed as I ran. I gutted the Auphe like they'd gutted Merry. Delicate ropy strings of intestines spilled free in a wash of black blood.

I hit the door and I was _gone_. You'd be surprised how fast you can run when you're flat-out terrified and I was booking it like_ hell_. I shoved past people and realized I was never going to make it back home to the apartment in Queens in time. Not on the subway. Not taking a taxi. Hell I was in deep shit and I'd die before I ever reached Niko. Fuck fuck fuck I needed to get to Niko I needed to get to _Niko_...

Reality screamed.

I missed a step and fell headlong.

Instead of turning myself into raw hamburger on the asphalt, I smacked into the cheap hardwood floor of our apartment.

What the_ flying holy fuck?!_

The pain hit and I screamed. I felt like someone had just taken a red-hot sledgehammer to my skull.

Niko came bolting in with a sword in his hand, Robin right behind him similarly armed. I balled up on the floor and clutched my head, trying to breathe and not vomit I needed to tell them needed to let them know-!

"The Auphe," Niko hissed, and darted to stand over me, nudging me with a foot.

"They...the bar...coming!" I gasped. I could barely see straight, the world fuzzy at the edges. My head my head my _head_ fuck! I couldn't fight was a goddamn liability we needed to get out get away they were coming they were _coming to get me Niko don't let them get me!_

I came awful close to blacking out, sick and dizzy as the world faded dark and light again in nauseating waves. I could dimly hear Niko calling my name, fuzzy and distant. Hands grabbed my shoulder and sat me up and I promptly puked all over Robin's fancy shoes. He pulled me up to my feet and Niko grabbed me by the shoulder and I fumbled after my guns. I'd need them we needed to fight oh God Almighty my head was going to split in two.

Niko put me at his back and I struggled to breathe, fighting against the pain. My vision was still blurry at the edges but goddamn if I didn't see it when the Auphe gated in. Not just one or two but a dozen, two dozen, plunging in wild patterns with red eyes gleaming with malevolence. They were laughing, gleeful, and they darted in with claws swinging. I tracked, shot, missed. The smell of gunpowder and the taste of the Auphe and I brought one down in a spray of black blood and white flesh. Robin staggered as one landed on his back, teeth sinking into his shoulder. I darted forward and grabbed it, pulled. It twisted, slashed at me. Some kind of instinct ricocheted through me and I grabbed the narrow fine wrist and with a snatch clawed its throat out with is own talons.

My head was agony and my body was moving on nothing but pure adrenaline and _need_ and fear. They would not take me they were not going to take me...

A gate opened up, and something _not-Auphe_ stepped through.

It was black against their white, with huge silver eyes and a face sharp and pointed as a rattlesnake's. Huge silver eyes met my own and the thing _grinned_ at me. "Remember me?" it called in a sibilant, sing-song voice; the voice of an angel, beautiful and pure.

Beautiful, pure, and goddamn _terrifying._

"Oh _fuck_!" I remembered it, alright.

It laughed and darted forward. I tried to get away. I did. But one of the Auphe shoved me, claws not even touching skin, and the little shit tackled me flat to the floor. My gun spun away from my hand as my head hit the floor and impacted into a really fantastic fireworks show that I sure as hell wasn't appreciating because it hurt too damn much. I couldn't see couldn't think could only hear soft laughter and that voice. That goddamn beautiful voice.

"Let me in, Caliban."

I didn't have any say in the matter anyway and I never had.

Darkness, then light. A headache like nothing else I'd ever felt. Warm blooded, a weird feeling both odd and familiar. I smiled, and rose to my feet, ignoring the headache. We had problems here and the Auphe wanted everything to run on schedule. The customer was always right and all that bullshit. Niko was pinned under at least a dozen Auphe, silent seething fury, and Goodfellow stood alone, his sword's tip sagging to the floor.

"Darkling," he managed, shocked almost breathless, voice a thready whisper.

I waggled my fingers at him in a cheerful wave. "He shoots; he scores. Too bad 'better late than never' doesn't apply here, eh, Goodfellow?" Because "Darkling" it was...or "banshee"- I went by both. Not that I'd gotten a lot of face-time in the mythological books, no. The female banshees, whiny bitches, had gotten all the attention, but me? Their humble brother, one of the few male banshees in existence? Jack shit was the amount fame I'd gotten and that was a crying shame.

"Get out of him," Niko snarled.

I turned to look at him. His teeth were bared and his grey eyes were molten fury. He was shaking with it and the only thing keeping his legendary temper in check was the weight of a dozen Auphe all pinning him to the floor. Hot damn. I pursed my lips and whistled, cheerily.

"Before I've gone for a test drive? Not hardly! Besides, I've got places to go, worlds to destroy...I'm a busy monster, see." I grinned, and bent to pick up the Glock on the floor. Plenty of bullets left - and I'd only really need one. Niko was a loose end. He'd cause trouble. And as fun as it would be to watch him essentially commit suicide by chasing after the Auphe, well, it would definitely put a crimp in our plans. I leveled the gun at his face. "Time to go, Niko. For me and you."

I pulled the trigger but it wasn't Niko I hit. No, it was the Auphe he'd dragged down, turning the pile into a writhing upset of flailing limbs and claws. Whoops. Oh well, maybe they'd still pay me anyway. It was a damn vicious brawl going on, though, and as much as I wanted to stay and watch, well, time was ticking away and I had my marching orders.

Several of the Auphe sprang free and opened a gate against the far wall. Holstering my gun, I strolled through it with them, tossing one last cheery wave over my shoulder.

Worlds to wreck, hell to raise, death and destruction to unleash for everyone...

...hell, this was gonna be goddamn_ fun._


	12. Chapter Eleven: Wreak

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece!

In this chapter we reference the Wild Hunt of British fairy-tale tradition. The Wild Hunt was said to be ridden by the fair folk and the dead, lead by Herne the Hunter with his demon hounds. Seeing the Wild Hunt was a portent of death, doom or war. The souls of the living could be snatched away to the lands of the dead. In one particular Welsh myth, the _Cwn Annwn_ are the demon hounds of the hunt; they are white with red ears or eyes. In the legends they only hunt on certain nights for evildoers, and the eve of All Saint's Day is one of those days.

All Saint's Day, for those who do not know, is the day after Halloween, or All Hallow's (Saint's) Eve.

Halloween is possibly based on the Celtic pagan celebration of Samhain. It was believed that on Samhain, the dividing festival between fall and winter, the doors to the Otherworld were easily opened, and the souls of the dead and other beings could enter the human world.

In other words, I put a lot of thought into the reference to October in the book and wrote three throw-away lines based on that!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review! Thanks also to Comuterale and halesgirl101 for reviewing! A warm welcome to LeighAnnWallace as she joins the fun, and thanks for the reviews!

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven:** Wreak_

* * *

_And it's so easy when you're evil  
__This is the life, you see  
__The Devil tips his hat to me  
__I do it all because I'm evil  
__And I do it all for free  
__Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need  
_-"When You're Evil," Voltaire

* * *

There are a lot of truths in the world.

Humans had a knack for summing up truths in trite little phrases. They had a saying for everything under the sun, and none of them were new. There was one that had always stuck with me, though: choose your friends wisely. It was something to pay attention to.

That, and everyone has their price. I liked that one.

Put them together and that pretty much summed up my philosophy in life. Pick the right side and get paid to do it. I wasn't exactly friends with the Auphe but they were a force to be reckoned with even in these waning days of greatness. I could take care of myself - that was a given - but being on the Auphe's bad side was no way to start a new era. Besides, I had my price and they were more than willing to pay it.

Unfortunately, getting that price paid meant a stopover in Tumulus.

Tumulus was cold as the grave-mounds it was named for. The soil was like sand but more cutting than glass, and the air tasted like stale suffering under a sullen yellow sky. My warm-blooded half really wasn't fond of this place and my cold-blooded half wasn't either. We'd both been here before, at the same time, and for the same reason: working with the Auphe. The place hadn't improved one damn, and neither had the company. We refined the plan and went over the details and then of course I made the mistake of asking about the headache Caliban'd had when I'd checked in.

That turned into an abrupt re-learning of how to gate.

Turns out this body was hardwired for gating and Cal had been an apt student, two years ago. Torture is nothing if not a great learning incentive. But in his panic he'd done it wrong and that was just unacceptable and apparently a great way to end up imploding your brain. So we had lessons again in the mind-bending gymnastics required; hardwired did not equal easy! Far from it - it was damn tricky to wrap my mind around the twisty cognition required.

A gate was power; it was a black-winged harbinger, a shivering omen of things to come. But it wasn't just opening a doorway. It wasn't gathering every iota of inner force and ripping the fabric of space and time itself. It wasn't an act of will overcoming the physical universe. I wasn't any of those, yet it was all of them at once. But more than that, it was an orgasm. Light and darkness. Up and Down. Life and death. Oh, and one more thing...

It kicked _ass._

It was a hell of a rush.

Opening a gate was a bitch, but closing one was hard as hell. It was almost impossibly hard to let it die. The exhilaration was addictive as all fuck. Hardwired for this shit, I'd say! No wonder the Auphe were always popping in and out with those things, even in Tumulus. Rarely did they trek for long distances, they just gated.

As for me, I wasn't to make any trips unsupervised. No ending up at the bottom of a volcano with their precious prize, nope. That was fine by me, though. I had other means of getting around. Not mirrors anymore, no. I wasn't ephemeral enough in this body to surf light-waves. But I could walk, and in New York City, there was the human miracle of public transportation. Hot damn. I couldn't wait to get back to the city. There'd be central heating there and I was sick of being cold.

Except when I stepped out into Central Park from a gate, it was frickin' snowing.

_Just_ my luck.

I headed for warmth and cover pretty damn fast.

A check of the newspaper told me it was almost a week since I'd walked off with the Auphe. Well, that was time and Tumulus for ya; I'd only spent only a day in Auphe-hell. I lingered under the awning of a cafe and watched the snow fall. Early snow, really, but 'twas the season for freak weather. In a few days, no-one would care about the freak weather, anyway. In a few days, the world as it was would no longer exist. Hell, I'd miss the chili-cheese-dogs and the modern amenity of heating, but for the fun of the old days? Shit, it was going to be worth it. Humans would go back to being prey, the hunted.

It was almost time for Samhain. Halloween, the humans called it. Well, on Halloween, when traveling was easier, we would remake the world.

Old Herne would ride his Wild Hunt without half his hounds this year - the Auphe and I had other plans.

Cal had some pretty good talents. I picked a few pockets with ease and headed off to find a decent hotel. I needed a place to hole up and think about what was going to happen next. I had a few days to kick back, relax, and get rid of a few loose ends. My bosses needed that time to find the perfect spot and gather together all that was left of their race. Me, I was going to do a little murder and mayhem. Cal had only _thought_ he was a monster - now we were the real thing and I was going to have some fun. But first - food, sleep, and planning.

The hotel was decent enough. I'd stayed in some impressive and impressively shitty places over the years: from pitch black damp caves with blind grubs and creeping fungi to the opal-encrusted bones of a queen at the bottom of a swamp. I'd even lived once in the petrified body of a basilisk. Long dead and turned to stone, but it still stank. Don't ask me how and don't ask me why the owner had wanted that piece of yard-sale crap protected. All I know is he paid well for it. The hotel definitely topped it, though.

I cranked the heat up as high as it would go and drowsed under several blankets, picking over revengeful schemes and wicked crimes with pleasant sleepy delight. I'd need grunt muscle for most of them, really, but I knew where to find it. Boggle was one, and I'd worked with him before Cal had ever known him. He'd do it again, too, not for old time's sake but from fear. I sleepily mused over getting more money. I could hit up Promise's place, cry the error of my ways and the wickedness of Niko and set them up to go at one another. Damn, I didn't have any fresh bruises to add credibility to the tale, but it would be delightfully amusing. They could duke it out and I'd kill the winner and I'd have money.

It might be a damn sight more satisfying to take Niko on myself, but it was more dangerous. The man was ruthless and who to know it better than me, his own brother? Yeah, I'd prefer to take Niko out from a distance or via someone else, but if it came down to it?

Oh, if it came down to it...

I'd love the taste of his hot red blood on my tongue.

Sweet brotherly love indeed.

Come the morning, I left my nest and did a little more pickpocketing to finance a change of clothes because god_damn_ it was cold in the snow! With a nice black credit-card in hand, I scattered a few purchases around the city and went to visit Boggle. Oh the sights to see, the places to go, the scent and taste of humanity and hunger and lust for violence. Who wouldn't love this city, where the sheep and the wolves walked side-by-side? Where the pretty faces on the streets masked the ugliness in the darkened alleys and it was all a cheap facade of civilization over the restless search of a predator. Life beat feverishly in the frantic pulse of the damned and I hummed along as I traveled. That got me quite a few looks; my humming wasn't like the usual human variety

I'd known Boggle for years, from back when he'd been an ankle-biting pollywog. Years had passed but one thing would always stay the same: Bog's insatiable appetite. It defined consistency back when consistency wasn't even a concept, much less a word. So I came calling with a present in hand. I dropped it beside the puddle and ate my own treat; chili cheese dog with onions.

"Boggy, up and at 'em, tiger. I brought you breakfast." My voice was muffled around my own food.

Orange eyes surfaced in the mud like a bizarrely prehistoric frog. "You again," Boggle sighed with annoyed resignation...which melted when he focused more sharply on me. "_You_."

There we go. "It's me." I pushed up my stolen Oakleys and grinned, displaying my gorgeous silver peepers. "But are you sure which me it is, Bog? Because I'm more than willing to hash it out with you. For old time's sake."

He rose from the mud, teeth bared, tone disgusted. "You merged with it. A human. Disgusting. Perverse."

"Like you're one to talk, shit-sludge. Eat your breakfast." I kicked the mugger. Young, beefy frame, with a burning look of hunger in his eyes...he'd had on him a homemade garrote, a knife in horrible need of sharpening, and handcuffs. Whether he'd been after my wallet or something much less mundane, I could care less about. Neither would Boggle. He'd eat the crazy bastard all the same. "We've got work to do, you and I, and it's about goddamn time."

Grumbling, Boggle reached for his twitching breakfast. "It's always bidness with you. Been a thousand years easy and the first thing you want is a favor. Least this time you brought me takeout."

Boggles were not neat eaters. I finished off my hot-dog with unconcern. Auphe were not high on the Miss Manners list either, and Niko when he was having his best fun? Well, Cal and I were no strangers to the exact colours and smells of internal organs being ripped to shreds. Boggle politely tossed me a few finger-bones when I held out a hand and I added a little warm bone marrow to my hotdog. I personally didn't much care for the taste of raw human but hell, bone marrow was hard to turn down. I cracked the warm bloody bones in my back molars and told him about my plan, sucking the tiny amounts of rich nutty marrow out.

Boggle did not like my plan. It would be a lot of work and it'd put him in danger. But was he going to refuse? No he was not. Why was he not going to refuse? Was it our long history? For old times' sake? No, it would be because he wouldn't be the first of his kind I'd peeled like a grape. Boggles were big and they were fierce fighters, but they weren't bright and I could dance mental circles around him any day. I was the brains of this operation, and I needed some serious brawn. I was going to take down Niko, a hell of a fighter. And along the way a few others, of course, but mainly Niko. Boggle agreed to that with more enthusiasm than I'd expected; getting his ass handed to him by a decades-old human tadpole had really rankled his pride. He despised Niko and wouldn't mind having a shiny sword and a long blonde braid for his trinket collection. Me, I'd settle for the memory of a messy death.

As it was, I had a little pleasure to pursue before business - though killing anything was always a pleasure. I bullied Boggle into handing over some of the cold hard cash in his hoard (wasn't like _he_ was using it) and headed off to make some other arrangements. I found a cabbie and headed off to darker parts of town.

The driver was a _ghul._ I hadn't seen one of those in a while. This one was masquerading as a shriveled old woman with matted dreadlocks, John Lennon glasses, and a mouth like a rat trap. Most _ghuls_ had originally come sweeping out of the deserts of the bedouin like a foul wind, to bedevil travelers and occasionally eat them. What better disguise for that than a taxi driver? It rolled a bloodshot eye back at me and decided it would only overcharge me. I was in such a goddamned good mood that I paid the fare. It was just being in this city. I loved it. A city supercharged with the energy of thousands of supernaturals, with the biggest concentration of cattle on the East Coast living alongside them. A smorgasbord of sleeping placid sheep ripe for the panic and the killing. They no longer believed in us, oh, but we believed in them. Their primal urges had gone to sleep, but with the Auphe, we had the technology; we could unbuild them.

I bought a cheap disposable cell-phone on my way along and contemplated making a phone-call to Niko. Just to rile him up. Wouldn't it be fun? Oh he was mad as _hell_ that I was in the hands of the Auphe, and he couldn't do a thing about it. That apartment probably looked like a hurricane had gone through it right about now. And no doubt he'd be out scouring the city for me; I'd come back once. He'd believe I do it again, and he was right. Smart boy.

But not nearly smart enough.

I decided I'd make a call and really put his tail in a twist. Maybe set him off at Promise...ah, I'd make two calls, right on top of one another. Perfect.

My first call was to Promise. I made one hell of a sob story, threw in a shaking voice, some stifled manly sniffles, and a twitch of banshee-seduction that had her swearing to meet me with open arms and rescue me the moment I showed up at her apartment. I gave her a time, about fifteen minutes.

Then I called Niko.

Unfortunately, it was not Niko himself who answered, and I unhappily discovered another loose end. It was _Goodfellow_ who answered. I'd been pretty damn certain the self-important flashy peacock would have been halfway across the world by now; he was shallow, self-serving, and had a _very_ well-developed sense of self-preservation. Ah, but he liked humans, and when Niko wanted to, he could be _very_ charming. Of course.

"Goodfellow," I greeted, smoothly. "When did you get a backbone? Are they selling them on eBay now?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, before anger burned in his voice. "Darkling. What the hell are you doing? You cursed son of a bitch, what could you possibly have to gain from this?"

"Language, language," I chided. "I'm doing what I've always done. Getting paid and looking out for number one. Shouldn't that be what you're doing, Loman? Why are you changing now? Don't tell me you've let your lust trump your common-sense now. I think they have pills for that, Goodfellow."

"Loman," he returned, after a moment. "You called me Loman."

"I'll call you Mary Margaret if I want to. Or Danny boy. That's more appropriate, don't you think?" I laughed and hummed a few bars of the legendary dirge. Goodfellow had gotten all boring - all this for Niko's ass, which he didn't have a real chance at anyway. Niko was straight as they came. And honestly? My ass was a damn sight better anyway.

"Nik around, old friend? I'd like to chat with him." I suspected he was _not_; there was no way Goodfellow would still be holding the phone if he was.

"I'm not your friend," he spat vehemently. "I was never a friend to you or any of your kind. I can't believe I didn't recognize it when they told me about it."

Well, not hard to understand. I'd only picked up the mirrors in the past five hundred years or so. The other male banshees had never pulled that trick, and now that I was the last, they never would. I started to twist the knife, but there was a sudden loud scuffle on the other end of the line; a sharp voice cussing, and Niko's chest-deep baritone snarl.

"You shit-slimed _gadje_ bastard son of a crosseyed motherfucking _whore_, where have you taken my brother?" Niko demanded, and I could just _tell_ by the tone he'd be shaking with the rage, the bitter smell of it thick enough to _taste_. It was a fantastic mental image and I licked my lips, chills racing over my skin. Delicious.

"Your brother is gone," I crooned, sweetly. "And as for where, well, Promise was delighted to hear I'd seen the error of my ways. She swears she'll protect me from you, dirty bastard. And they say vampires fight like demons when they're angry."

I laughed and clicked off the phone, cutting off an impressive tirade of curses in Rom and English. Niko was a _creative_ son of a bitch and the litany was colourful and artistic.

Damn, I wished I could see the showdown between him and the vampire. It'd be one hell of a fight - Niko was a demon himself in human flesh, the likes of which I'd only seen in my long life every thousand years or so. I was betting he'd be a match for pretty little Promise, but the battle would be delightful, and all the blood spilled...

But I had a job to do, another pretty little fight to engineer.

I put the phone in my pocket and headed on down the street, humming cheerfully.

Dogfights. If you looked hard enough, you could find them. If you were lucky, you'd only lose your money. If you were unlucky, you could lose a whole lot more than that. Some fights had a very select clientele. Those were the ones where the dogs usually bet on themselves. It made for interesting odds.

I had a word with the bitch at the door. She hovered halfway between wolf and human, frozen into a mutated shape, not one or the other. Her eyes were inhuman amber under a thick unibrow, and she had a jaw with a toothy underbite that would make an orthodontist cringe. Her shaggy brown hair was pulled up into a pushy ponytail, and it was the same shade as the hair the showed in abundance from the neck and armholes of her sleeveless T-shirt. She had that European look nailed.

It was a myth that werewolves are made. They're born, but not all are born equal. Certain packs thought that it was better to become pure, and inbred frequently to produce something more wolf and less human. All Wolf, not able to switch between, and this lovely lady was the less-than-ideal result. She wasn't too bright, either, I decided as I chatted her up. She knew I was something else, too: werewolves have good noses, better than the Auphe. Her eyes practically crossed at her first whiff of me - Auphe, human, and banshee - and apparently it was a very good smell. She snuffled my hair with splayed nostrils repeatedly as we talked, chuffing low in her throat. Just as long as she didn't start humping my leg; I'd seen fleas in her hair. You knew you were in trouble when you had to dump the condoms and go straight for the flea collars.

I slipped her a fifty and she gave me two names. I descended into the dark basement, filled with people, some furry and some not. There was a fight in full swing and the noise was deafening. A rough circle had been constructed in the middle of the floor with woven chainlink fencing, and two wolves were going at it inside. They were almost completely lupine, save that one had no tail and the other had purely human blue eyes. I hesitated on my errand to watch the fight, appreciating the unleashed savagery and envious of the clean slash that turned one throat to a pulsing red ruin. Oh the taste of blood.

I went to find the two werewolves I'd been told about. I had cash and a murder to plan out, and I'd need all the hunger and savagery werewolves were capable of.

Little Red Riding Hood had always been one of my favorite fairy-tales.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Envenom

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece.

**Trigger Warnings: gore, violence, non-consensual kissing, torture**.

There is no rape but it's close enough that it may squick or trigger some people. Proceed with caution.

Also see the note at the bottom about the fairy-tale reference in this chapter.

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her prompt review of the last chapter! Thanks also to Comuterale, LeighAnnWallance, and halesgirl101 for reviewing! Let's hope you guys forgive me for this.

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve:** Envenom_

* * *

_I want to hold you close_  
_Skin pressed against me tight_  
_Lie still, close your eyes girl_  
_So lovely it feels so right_  
_I want to hold you close_  
_Soft breasts, beating heart_  
_As I whisper in your ear:_  
_I wanna fucking tear you apart!_  
-"Tear You Apart," She Wants Revenge

* * *

It wasn't just business I was after in the werewolves' den. I had some fun, got a few drinks and bet on the fights. I won myself a nice wad of cash, got a little buzzed on alcohol, and had some fun chatting up my bitch friend from the front door. She'd come looking for me. I took her out to the back alley to show her a good time.

A hell of a good time, though she didn't have much to say. Not after I crushed her voicebox, anyway.

Werewolves are sturdy creatures. They can live a long time while you take them apart piece by piece.

Why? For the hell of it, of course. She fought like a bitch and I loved it, carving her up nice and slow._ God_ was there anything better than _this_, the taste of the fight, the blood, the fear in her eyes as I grabbed her arm and hauled her in closer, her guts leaking from her gashed belly, blood hot on my knife and hands and teeth. The wild kick of adrenaline and the hammer-drumbeat-rush of a redblooded heart and _fuck_ being hot-blooded was the best high I'd ever felt yet. This was addictive as all hell, and I was laughing long and high and bright. The _power_ of making her _afraid_ and unable to fight back...

An Auphe stepped through a gate, took one look at me and my prey, and pounced. Long claws sank into flesh and we both hauled back and pulled in opposite directions. In the grisly tug-of-war, the bitch held for one extended moment then ripped in two like a broken doll. The Auphe dropped into a crouch and tore a bloody hunk off the arm it held; no need to waste a free hot meal.

I dropped to my knees in the pool of rapidly-spreading blood, fingertips tingling to the wild rush of endorphins. Why wasn't anyone bottling this shit? They'd make a killing off human adrenaline alone. Breathing hard, I reached into the shattered ribcage and wrapped my hand around the still-beating heart. I snatched it free, steaming in the cold night air, and sucked a mouthful of blood straight from the quivering chambers.

_God_ there was nothing better than this.

I laughed and the Auphe looked up at me, red eyes sated and lazy now.

"Keep your hunting discreet," it said, roughly, in its own language. A distasteful sort of language, but one I understood. It sounded like roaches had crawled into your ear canals and started mating, but I understood it. "And remember the plan. Do not make ripples, you wretched creature. Ripples become waves. Waves drown those who make them."

Status quo, blah blah, don't rock the boat baby. It was hard to nod soberly and not keep grinning; I was still all but trembling with the goddamn fantastic thrill of taking the bitch apart. Hot _damn_ I loved this body. Hopefully the Auphe would let me keep it after the plan was over with.

"We've got to get rid of the brother and Goodfellow," I pointed out, in Auphe. It was hard to wrap a human tongue around fifteen vowels and more than a hundred consonants, but I made do. "They are causing waves."

"And if you are quiet they will not find you," the Auphe rebuked, and cracked a bone between metallic teeth like melted butter.

"I'll be careful, but I don't want them to ruin things." I spread my hands and shrugged.

The Auphe's eyes narrowed. "Be careful," it repeated, and opened a gate. It dragged the entire werewolf body through with it, and left me kneeling in a rapidly-clotting blotch of snow-stained blood, a stilled heart in my hands. I thought about taking a bite, but all the fun was gone now - it was cold. I dumped it on the snow and got up. The dark stains didn't show well on my black clothes, and even in the brightly-lit city night, I'd not stand out much in this part of town.

Good. I was still feeling like a live wire and ready for _more_.

I started walking the streets, looking for music. I loved music. It was a thing for us banshees. Male banshees sang for different reasons than our sisters did, though. Bringing death was what we did, not sitting around waiting to announce it. So yeah, I loved music. All music. Rock was best, but if it had a beat, if it got my blood pumping, and if I could kill to it, it met my requirements. Humans excelled in the making of music, really. Creative bastards.

It was while I was looking for the music that I found something else intriguing.

A tattoo parlour.

I knew just what I wanted, too. With a bright smile, I walked into the shop.

When I woke up in the morning, it was actually around noon and my shoulder was sore. No headache, though - Caliban rarely got hangovers and I was enjoying the fruits of that. I admired my new tattoo in the mirror before I went to get breakfast: black and red, banded across my bicep..._ABOMINATION_. It was perfect, jet black and scarlet ink and no denial. I smiled brightly, and went to eat. I had a busy day ahead of me. Little girls to kill, brothers to torment... So nice.

It wasn't much later, on a fine snowy Saturday afternoon, that I met my two werewolf flunkies in an alleyway. Wolfgang and Fang, ready to wreak havoc. I sent them in through the front.

Once the screaming started, I slipped in through a back window. I'd been here for an hour already and I knew exactly which window I wanted. I timed it _perfectly_; as I hit the floor, here came Georgie-Porgie, flying into her room with a little sister by the hand. Too bad for them, the monster was already _behind_ the locked door. I stalked closer, fingers already tingling in the violent rush of anticipation, heart pounding.

"George..." I drawled, and she whirled to face me, eyes flying wide. Of course - my own eyes were bright silver, like a mirror, instead of Caliban's stormy grey. She thrust her sibling behind her - a laughable attempt, really! Did she think that would stop me? Oh no, she'd failed to stop_ any of this_ and she was about to find out the hard way just what she'd started. Did I think she was a threat? Nope. She was just too pat to leave alive. I was doing the world a favor; a cute redheaded psychic? Really?

It was too perfect anyway.

I darted forward, moving too fast for any human, and snatched the two apart. Cal had been quick, lithe with a natural runner's grace. I was quicker. A single snap kick to the head and the younger girl dropped, skull cracked open against the wall, leaving a bloody sunburst on the faded pink paint. Georgina stumbled, fell, and I dropped down on top of her as she hit the floor. I clapped a heavy hand over her mouth and smiled sweetly at her. "George, George, for shame. Do you know what you've done, little Red? You_ lied_ to me."

I pulled out my knife, sitting on her chest, holding her down. "You lied. You chose to be adult and dishonest. You chose the Path of Needles, Little Red Riding Hood. And bad girls trying to grow up too fast? They get eaten by the wolves, George." I let the knife-blade glitter in the light, felt her breath sucked in sharp over the back of my hand. Her seeing eyes were wide, her body trembling, and her heart beat so fast against my thigh. Fear, _fear_, sharp as the blade in my hand and the smile that bared all my teeth was a predator's leer.

I delicately laid the tip of the knife just below the inner corner of her eye. She was shaking in earnest now.

"What do you see, George? Does it scare you?" I taunted, breathless with the wild rush of adrenaline and triumph. Oh she would pay for lying and oh she would regret it and I would make her do it. I snatched the knife down, felt it grate against bone, all across her cheek and down to her jaw. She screamed against my hand, body bucking, and with a laugh I did it again, on the other side. A matching set, red blood and white bone and the yellow of all that cute chubby baby fat. She kicked, she writhed, she screamed long and muffled and it was _glorious_ I could _taste_ the terror and it was a heady draught, so much better than the alcohol buzz last night, so much better than the werewolf I hadn't known. No, I_ knew_ George, knew she'd thought I was such a good person, and _oh_ how wrong she'd been! (Not a victim not a good person.)

I was a monster and she'd never wanted to see it.

Now she couldn't deny it.

I snatched my hand away. As she sucked in a deep breath to scream, I dropped down and sealed my mouth over hers.

This body was slow to produce toxins, merged though it was. I only had a mouthful and it was nowhere near as potent as I wanted yet. It wouldn't kill her in and of itself, no. But it would be enough to close her throat with swelling, kill her slowly by suffocation, scar her pretty voice into nothing. She tasted like cherry-chocolate icecream, rich and sweet and terrified. She bit like a viper, too. I reared back laughing, my own lips bleeding, and let her throw me off in a wild twist. Oh this was _too_ much fun! Too sweet! She writhed away, clutching at her throat, eyes wild in a face turning grey. I grinned, rolled to my feet, and stalked after her. I grabbed her long skirt. She kicked, I wrenched, and her pretty patterned skirt tore in a long running ruin. How cute, her underwear had little pink bows on it. Hormones and adrenaline and I looked down at my body's reaction, laughing.

"Humans. Gotta love the horny bastards," I sneered at her. She kicked me in the knee, a new terror in her eyes, but she was fading fast, face blotchy now.

I dropped to my knees between her legs, knife in hand, and slashed first down one long perfect thigh, then the other, blade biting deep into flesh. She kicked, blood spurted, and even catching a sneaker to the teeth couldn't stop my laughter, dim the delight burning in me, the absolute triumph! She was afraid of me, she couldn't fight back, and I was the one who'd made her this way, broken her into such a beautiful, beautiful wreck. Oh it was _perfect_ and I wanted to taste her, her blood, her heart in my hands.

The door slammed open.

Niko stood framed in the doorway, a terrible light in his grey eyes, a bloody sword in either hand. He looked savage and wild, a fey warrior from another time, and there was sweet madness in him. I could smell it even from here - madness and fury and _hate._

A second doorway opened, and in one smooth move I leapt from the floor and plunged into the gate, the Auphe who'd opened it following not a second later.

Niko's roar of rage echoed weirdly after us, and the sound made me shudder. _Oh_ when I killed him, when I killed him...

It would be _glorious._

My hands were shaking. I licked my bitten lips and wiped my knife clean. I sheathed it at my belt, and looked around to see where the Auphe had brought me.

We stood outside in the cold evening light, thick fat snowflakes falling past us with a soft hushed whisper. I recognized the area vaguely from Caliban's memories - Sunset Park, in Brooklyn. We stood in front of a huge warehouse, a hulking dilapidated building between two other abandoned building. Brick and squat, shattered windows, sullen atmosphere. I looked at the Auphe, barely outlined against the snow; lethality in the barest sketches. Red eyes glanced up at me.

"This is the place. Be here in two days."

The place, hmm?

The Auphe had Cal, they had me, but they also needed a massive influx of energy. A supernatural battery, if you will. A major power-source: like crossed ley lines, or an abandoned place or worship. If the faith was genuine, over time places of worship tended to build up a huge amount of energy. But this wasn't saying church-bells to me - this spoke of bloodcurdling screams and sobbing pleas for help. So much the better. It wasn't an E-ticket ride yet, but it would be. It'd be the biggest, the best, the very last ride the world ever took. That I was going to be in the driver's seat made it even more of a rush.

I followed the Auphe inside. Inside, many more Auphe were milling about, deliberately, clearing the floor of what seemed to be nearly a decade of debris. There were close to a hundred of them, pushing and pulling with long hands and unnatural strength. A hundred, and that was just about every Auphe left in this world. Tumulus itself might just stand empty as they gathered here. That's the breaks of having your own spot on the endangered-species list. I watched them for a moment, and my guide took off again, moving to help its wretched brethren.

"Hey. What's with the cleaning, boss?" I called to the nearest.

In answer, the Auphe pointed one long spidery finger towards the ground. It could've been China he was indicating, but I doubted it. Jade, pagodas, and stir-fried noodles were great, but not particularly useful in remaking the world. Crouching, I laid a hand on the bared concrete floor. It was icy-cold, leaching the warmth from my flesh as it whispered black, poisonous things in my ear. Evil, horrible things that could turn a soul inside out and turn every shred of light into the darkest despair. Nifty.

"Ah," I hummed with approval. "Nothing warms my heart like a good slaughter." Violent deaths could raise power, and a lot of it. Many people had died in this spot and what was left of them was cradled in the earth deep beneath us. It had happened long ago by human standards, but it had poisoned this place so thoroughly that it was still tainted thousands of years later. It could have been Native Americans massacring the wannabes or vice versa. It might have even been before a white man had ever touched this soil. Whatever it had been, it was human on human. Funny how they would kill so easily, but always with a _justification_. Always excuses.

Those that admitted the truth? That they did it for the fun of it? Those they locked up...or killed for the good of society. Such irony.

How humans could take a concept so pure, so pristine, as killing and wrap it up in a mess of psychobabble and denial and chains of ridiculous ritual was beyond me. They tried so hard to ruin the simple joy, the magnificent beauty of it.

I thought of Niko, and death, and smiled.

I patted the concrete and felt the rage, the hatred, and the horror of life snuffed out abruptly. It was delicious, decadent, sweet. It wouldn't be long before we sucked it dry, turned it into nothing; no more screams for vengeance, no more uneasy death echoing through the years. Just nothing. Well, it wasn't heaven but neither was it hell.

Considering what was coming, nothing might be better. Honestly the Auphe had shown a whole lot of cunning in this plan of theirs, more than usual. (They plan the hunts.) Since the dawn of time, they'd been near the top of the food chain. I wouldn't give them the very top rung, though no doubt they thought they'd had it...but then the humans had come. Back then they hadn't been much of a threat, oh no. They'd been entertainment to start with. Brutish and clever enough in their own way, and they were hard to break. There's nothing worse than a flimsy toy. But then...our toys bred. Yeah, one minute the Auphe had been gloating at the top of their rung - in the next, a tidal wave of humanity had swept over them, Swept over us all. They were too many and we were too few, these days.

So, the Auphe had reasoned, why not open a gate to back then? Back when it had been good. Well, for that they needed me. No Auphe could open a gate to the past. The energy needed for that was phenomenal; they simply didn't have it. Channeling that energy from an outside source was not a talent the Auphe possessed, but I did. I had my own natural energy, but when I channeled a huge power source in addition to that, the end result was a little less than a nuclear explosion. Now, in a perfect world I could have inhabited an Auphe, channeled, and opened the gate. Piece of cake, right? Yeah, no. We'd tried that, and the only result had been several messily exploded Auphe. Turns out they and I were not compatible merging. So, several experiments later, we found out I could possess a human, and with a little tinkering, a human's genetics could be manipulated enough to crossbreed. And the breeding program had begun, of which Caliban was the only viable result. (The key.)

Granted, it hadn't been _easy_; Caliban had been a stubborn little shit, and even after they'd stolen him they'd still had to wait for him to be able to gate. His nervous system...inner battery...what-the-hell-ever just hadn't had enough power to flip that switch. But once he'd matured, he hadn't stuck around - oh hell no! He'd killed his own sire and took off running with the blood still hot in his teeth. He'd gotten _away_ and he'd been on the run ever since, and wasn't that a kicker? But he'd never been able to really get away, of course. And now...now we were going to remake the world. Open a gate to the past and let the Auphe through to warn themselves; and that would be all she wrote for Harry Human. The Auphe probably wouldn't wipe them_ all_ out, though. They _were_ damn good playthings, after all.

The humans would be sheep again, and we'd reign supreme. They'd be _afraid_ of us again, as they should be. Heady stuff, fear, the greatest appetite teaser for violence and blood.

Now, to tie up a few loose ends before the big event.

I had a brother to kill.

Smiling, I left the Auphe to their cleaning, and went on my way, violence and death and drawn-out screams ringing in my head. Oh to make Niko _scream._

He'd never _beg,_ no, (it wasn't in him) but I had a feeling I could do enough damage...

Granted, unless I had the perfect chance, I wasn't going to risk it. As much as I might dream about taking him apart _personally_, the odds of it happening without my ass being beaten? Damn close to zero. No, I'd kill him quick and take him apart after he was down. Less satisfying, sure, but not as likely to end up with me damaged. Niko was mad as _hell_ these days and when he got angry his fists flew. (Mind your manners, monster.)

With Boggle backing me up, hopefully he'd soak up the damage and I could get off a clean shot. Kill the bastard and not risk too much.

The Auphe weren't going to help me on this. They had their plan; they didn't care one whit about anything Niko was going to say or do. Well, that was poor foresight on their part. I was going to make sure Niko wouldn't crash our end-of-the-world party.

….oh _fuck_ now that stupid song was stuck in my head.

Well there certainly weren't any earthquakes to start the end of the world, though I did feel just fine.

….who the _hell_ was Lenny Bruce anyway?

* * *

**Note: **The very oldest versions of Little Red Riding Hood are less about obedience and more about the decisions made in coming to adulthood. In one of the oldest tales, the wolf asks Red which path she will take to get to Grandma's, the Path of Pins or the Path of Needles; the former indicates childhood/maidenhood and the latter indicates sexual maturity. By Googling "Path of Needles in fairytales" you should be able to find an archive of several variants of this story.

And in case you're like me and Darkling, Lenny Bruce was a famous comedian and an outspoken advocate for freedom of speech. The song of course is "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" by REM.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Turning

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece, and I do not own the poem used here either.

Hey, welcome back, if last chapter didn't scare you off! Only two more chapters to go, friends, so thanks for sticking with it. Spot the Disney movie reference!

Thanks to Comuterale for the uber-prompt review! Thanks also to halesgirl101 and Kin-outcast1 for reviewing!

Let's have a bonus round: ask _Malum in Se _Cal or Niko a direct question in your review, and as long as it's not a total spoiler for the rest of the story, I'll have them answer at the end of the next chapter. All questions welcome, fire away!

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_**Chapter Thirteen:** Turning_

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_Appetites reach all-time highs_  
_No one seems to care who dies_  
_Prey on every little thing in sight_  
_To kill or be killed state of mind_  
_Anything to stay alive_  
_Never ever show you're terrified_

_It's a common casualty to trust in what you see_  
_Saints and scholars don't even bother_  
_The bullet in your blood came from those you love_  
_Friendly fires; death by a liar!_  
- "Now is the Time (Ravenous)" by 10 Years

* * *

_Turning and turning in the widening gyre,_  
_The falcon cannot hear the falconer;_  
_Things fall apart, the center cannot hold;_  
_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_  
_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere_  
_The ceremony of innocence is drowned;_  
_The best lack all conviction, while the worst_  
_Are full of passionate intensity._

_Surely some revelation is at hand;_  
_Surely the Second Coming is at hand._  
_The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out_  
_When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi_  
_Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;_  
_A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,_  
_A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,_  
_Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it_  
_Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds._

_The darkness drops again but now I know_  
_That twenty centuries of stony sleep_  
_Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,_  
_And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,_  
_Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?_  
-"The Second Coming," by William Butler Yeats

* * *

I dialed Niko's number, my breath puffing white in the still air.

I slid the phone under the curve of my hat, wincing at the cold plastic.

The phone barely rang once.

"You." The answer was short, clipped, venomous.

"Now is that any way to greet me, brother?" I chided, smiling at his tone. Oh, oh, he was _so angry_ and it was lovely. "I don't think so. Mind your manners, monster."

He made a gutteral noise of displeasure and then clicked his teeth at me, the bastard. "Mind your own, and maybe I will," he retorted, sharply. "What do you want, bitch?"

"I wanted to see you. One last time. For old time's sake," I answered, laughing. "Face to face."

"Face to face, and through a glass darkly," he answered, and it took a moment for the reference to settle in. Hah, very clever, bigger brother knew his Bible. "Where do you want to meet, then?"

"It's a beautiful day in Central Park. A good day for someone to die, don't you think?" I thought so. It was overcast and the snow lay thickly on the ground, and it was bitterly cold. A good day to die, despairing and furious over having lost a precious little brother. (Little monster.)

"Certainly. I'll get my sweater and my sneakers and we can be friends," Niko retorted, and for a moment that didn't make any sense until he started humming the damn theme song to Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. I felt an eye twitch.

"Shit could you get any weirder?" (How in hell does he remember all this shit?) Maybe I'd just shoot him on sight, damn the plan. Except if I was going to get him dead, we needed the plan. Fuck.

Niko actually _chuckled_. From pissed off to laughing at me - I didn't like that one bit. It meant he was rational enough to _think_ and that was Bad News for me. "Yes, Darkling, I could. Tell Cal hi for me, you twisted little shit, and tell me where we'll get this face to face meeting."

"Why don't you just come for a run? See if you can catch me, Mr. Wolf." Niko had a particular trail he followed to go for a run. He had all the good ambush sites mapped out. (Always does.) Except one, and Boggle and I would be there, of course.

"Very well, Gingerbread Man. Let's see who catches whom." Niko clicked his phone off. I shivered as much from anticipation as the cold, and put my phone in my pocket. I looked down at Boggle, lurking sulkily in his ice-crusted mudhole.

"Fifteen minutes, tops. Let's get set up, Bog." We had a brother to kill. And kill messily.

Sitting silent and still behind an ornamental holly is not my idea of a good time, especially when it's about thirty degrees with windchill and snow on the ground. Fortunately I had a good coat and visions of bloody death to entertain me. Boggle had already gotten into position, and all we were doing was waiting for Niko. Niko, who did not come alone. Shockingly, he'd brought Goodfellow with him. (A good ally.) Niko was jogging along with his hands in his pockets at an unconcerned pace, a grey scarf muffled around his face, a black toboggan hat pulled low over his pale hair. Goodfellow at least had his hands free and looked rather more concerned, his own curls free from any confinement. I knew he wasn't feeling the cold like Niko and I were.

I waited until they were almost even with me. That was when Boggle breached the earth like a shark breaking water, swatting them apart. Niko went headlong into a set of dead ornamental bushes and Robin crashed into metal artistic sculpture that bent into far more fascinating shapes.

Niko struggled to his feet. I stood up from behind the bush, Glock 30 leveled and cocked. I put three .45 bullets into his chest. Niko staggered back with the first, grey eyes wide, breath hissing out in a white cloud. He dropped back against a small evergreen tree and swayed limply into the branches before he crumpled. I moved a little closer and shot him in the back just to make sure, the strong smell of cordite hanging in the cold air.

That done, I turned to see how Goodfellow was making out against Boggle. Pretty well - Robin was fast on his feet and had a nice broadsword out. Boggle, armed with tooth and claw, was slower but smart enough. I took careful aim. Let's see how well Goodfellow could fight with an exploded kneecap. Boggle could use the help.

Aim, breathe, and I missed my shot when a hand fisted in my ponytail and I very narrowly avoided having my throat slit. I whirled around and shot Niko again at close range. (He knows better always.) He grunted as he staggered, threw the knife in his hand, and it tore through my sleeve even as I dodged. How in fucking hell was he still _alive_? There were scorched bullet-holes in his coat but no blood - of course, a bullet-proof vest! He knew Cal preferred guns and all the familial intimacy had come back to bite me in the ass. (Not so smart.) Niko was armed and dangerous, lethal as I was. Since the days of apple-peddling snakes there hadn't been anyone I couldn't take down, but Niko stood a damn good chance of seriously injuring me while I took him down. And that just wouldn't do, not for me and definitely not for the Auphe.

So when Niko darted towards me, grey eyes glacial and utterly blank of all emotion (he never blocks me out), I did the smart thing.

That's right, ladies and gents, I turned tail and ran like hell.

Niko would probably chase after me (can't outrun him) but I was faster and I had something he didn't. I had a getaway vehicle ready and waiting, engine already running. If you paid or threatened them enough, a New York cabbie would do just about anything. So when I came pelting out of the Park and threw myself into the backseat, my faithful well-paid driver didn't hesitate for even a moment before peeling out into traffic like a madman.

I got up in the seat and looked through the back window just in time to see Niko skid to a halt, trying to get the number or plate of the cab...and I saw the sleek Corvette driving just a little too fast in the snowy weather that couldn't swerve in time. Clipped hard, Niko went sprawling onto the curb, a boneless bundle of flesh. I grinned with great delight and settled back into my seat. It'd take a human a damn long time to recover from that, and it looked like he'd taken a good hard hit. Had to have broken some bones. Hot damn. It almost made up for having missed my chance. I still _wanted_ him dead, with a burning passion. And if he was hurt badly enough, I'd track him down to whatever hospital and dispatch him there. But there'd been no way in hell to salvage that fight, not with him so close and already armed. Not without getting my ride damaged and there was no way I could risk that now.

Besides, that hit-and-run had probably just taken care of my problem.

(That's what you think, bastard.)

Boggle was probably dead and gone, too bad, but you got what you paid for. Considering he'd been free, well, it wasn't much of a loss. Now, how to get at Niko? I'd been counting on that plan to work, as I only had one day left to try again.

I had a nice dinner of rare steak and some excellent rose wine and then I started making phonecalls to local hospitals. I had an excellent sob story - a fight, older brother gone, younger brother worried sick, sick mother, so on - but very few nurses were swayed. Damn this day and age and the privacy laws. (HIPPA laws Nik said.) Only one took my number and said she'd call back. I spent a little while drowsing under hot blankets, before falling asleep.

Sleep was something I'd always been fond of, in either halves of my whole. I'd always enjoyed the dark silent embrace, the stillness of it. Humans dreamed, but I did not. I didn't need to. Life was all the wish fulfillment that I needed. I was the nightmare in human history. I did not dream or have nightmares. And I refused to start now.

The sky was dark and starry, wide as it wheeled overhead; the taste of snow and ice and death in the air. Barefoot in the summer grass, walking. A meadow ringed by inky black trees. A deadly beautiful woman who chanted curses at me as I passed and cried when I shouted at her. The taste of summer starlight on my tongue and the pale glitter of golden blonde hair silvered over under starlight. Niko sitting up from the grass and staring at me with eyes empty and gone, pecked out by the crows, bloody holes of gore in his serene face. And standing still in the center of the field, a slender figure with inky black hair over its face, pale starlit-silvered skin on upraised bare arms, and a voice like velvet darkness and the scented smoke of charmers and seers through history.

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer. Turning and turning in the widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer..."

The hiss of the Auphe, a lingering chill like the taste of snow on the summer breeze.

Grey eyes charged with anger like a looming thundercloud, teeth with prominent canines bared in a smile like lightning. A voice that would not cease and from the shadows of the wood pealed the elvish laughter, ringing and ringing like the cacophony of a murder of crows all taking flight at once from the battlefield, gorged on carrion.

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre..."

"Arrogant little creature," Niko said, soft and gentle, a whisper sliding under the roar, his lips warm and alive and mobile under those dark empty sockets. "Don't you know? Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world."

Dead eyes and rotten hands, bones showing stark through rags of putrefying soapy flesh, and he caught me lovingly around the throat and squeezed.

I bolted upright in bed, blankets scattering, gasping for breath and covered in a cold sweat.

(It's called nightmare-induced insomnia, bitch. Get used to it.)

I shook my head, annoyed. I didn't dream. They were just...leftover bits of memory swirling around, some mine, some his, now both ours. That was all. Nothing but mental debris. That was all I would let them be. They were not dreams or nightmares.

(See no evil, hear no evil, notice no evil...)

I was even_ more_ annoyed when I realized there was an Auphe crouched on the footboard of the bed, watching me with a speculative look in its red eyes. It was a look that made my gut tense and my spine straighten (humans were once _prey_ Darkling) before I shook it away. "What are you looking at?" I demanded. I'd grovel later if I felt like it. I was damn pissed off today.

The Auphe said nothing for a long moment, before it tipped its head in a motion familiar as breathing - a habit of my own body. "Stay on task, little lizard. You have a job to do," it chided. "Stay in control and do it." It unfolded with liquid grace and stepped off the headboard and into a gate.

The gate was left hanging open like an invitation. An order. With a snarl I kept mostly internal I grabbed the last of the rolls from last night and headed through. I was not losing control. We were one and I was in total control. There was no more Cal. There was only me.

(Sucks to be you, bitch.)

The gate led into the warehouse, of course. The floor was cleared, and there were Auphe still shifting a few things around at the top edges, but...it was ready. Well, almost ready. It was missing...something. A raised voice caught my ear and I turned - a _human_ voice. Well, if entrails were going to be flying, I wanted to be in on it. Stuffing a roll into my mouth - sandwich rolls I'd made last night in case I got hungry - I wandered that way. Of course, it was Samuel the guitarist. I recalled somewhere back in Tumulus the bosses had mentioned that. Nobody did sneaky better than the Auphe. (Knew he was too cheerful to be any good.)

"Well, hello Sammy." I grinned happily at him. "Aren't you a good actor."

He looked at me and blanched. "Your eyes...Jesus."

So he could shout at an Auphe, but one look at my sparkling silver eyes was enough to do him in? Ouch. He looked away, guilty as hell. I grinned and sidled up to drape an arm over his shoulders. He recoiled. I held on. "So, Sam-I-am, sure you were hired to keep an eye on Cal here, but I'm curious. What did you get out of the deal? What'd you trade for that big hunk of your soul?"

He shuddered away and turned to the Auphe he'd been talking to. It was half-asleep, by the looks of it, red eyes lazy-lidded and body loose as it crouched on a crate, ebon claws flexingly idly and leaving long pale scars in the wood.

"You said you'd heal my brother. I did what you wanted, now you keep your half of the bargain. Before it's too late. I did more than you wanted, heal my niece too."

Ah, wasn't he a soft-hearted sucker? (There's one born every minute.) Too bad he had the brains of a rock. The Auphe couldn't heal. Hell, if peckish enough, they'd eat their own wounded. They had no talent in the healing field, but they had an affinity for lies; little white ones, big black ones, and all shades inbetween. (Can't trust the fae say the old stories.) And this particular Auphe had a gleeful glint in its sleepy eyes - it had enjoyed stringing Samuel along on such false promises. (...you made me promises promises, you knew you'd never keep...) They had no further need of him...but I might. As I considered that, the Auphe yawned, its plush velour tongue flexing behind several rows of sharp metallic teeth. It was the last straw for Samuel. Dark hands seized the Auphe by narrow shoulders and shook hard.

"You bastard. You promised. You swore!"

Have you ever noticed that in times of great stress, humans revert to being children? It's not necessarily that they want someone to take responsibility or to take care of them. And it's not that they lose the capacity to understand what's going on. What they do lose is the knowledge that life isn't fair. (Life is_ never_ fair.) As their life is falling apart around them, they absolutely refuse to believe it's happening, right down to the last second. They start life as a child; they end life as a child.

It's damn near poetic.

The Auphe didn't appreciate the poetry, though. Barbed claws encircled Samuel's wrist until the blood flowed freely. "Such a strong-willed sheep. So very disobedient. What shall we do with a sheep that dares question his shepherd?" He was waking up, red eyes flaming torpidly to life. He didn't look especially hungry, but who among us is above a snack or two out of pure boredom? It looked like Samuel was about to get sheared or eaten, and neither would leave him functioning. I would have enjoyed it, but I needed him now.

"Boss," I said mildly. "Mind if I have him for a while? I need him to do something for me."

Vulpine annoyance sharpened the narrow face, and the Auphe hissed several words that cut the air like jagged razors. I answered back, telling him what I wanted. With a peeved snort through moist nostril slits, the Auphe let Samuel loose and turned, slithering off the crate and licking its claws clean as it went.

I turned to Samuel and smiled. "Your niece too, hmm? Well, Sam-I-am, I need you to do me a favor. I want you to bring me your band's sound system tonight."

He grimaced at me. "What the hell makes you think I'll do anything you say?" he spat, still angry.

"Because I know where your darling little niece and her father are right now. And if I tell the Auphe, they'll find them, and finish what those nasty werewolves started. Poor Georgina, how could she stand to know her beloved uncle Sammy could be so careless..." Oh yes, Little Red had lied and she'd tried to protect her uncle Samuel...oh, I'd never met a psychic who had ever lived a long and happy life. Long and miserable, yes. Happy just wasn't part of the game of life. (Because life's not fair, is it, Scar?)

Samuel blanched again, a great deal more, pale under his dusky skin. He stared at me. Ah, the death of hope, it was a priceless thing. "Can...can they do it? Could those things heal them?"

"Nope," I told him, cheerfully. "They can't and they never could. You sold your soul for a pack of lies, Samuel. Now bring that equipment here tonight, and I won't say a word, and they'll still be alive when you go see them."

He stood motionless a moment, before his jaw tightened and he nodded jerkily. He turned away and left, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. He was down in the mouth but you had to be firm with the puppies. Spare the rod, spoil the human. But that was the least of our worries, really. If Niko found where we were... (He'll know he's smart.) I ate the last roll in my hand, and wondered how I was going to spend the boring, boring hours until nightfall.

Turns out the Auphe were a little bored too, and they brought along playtime. What happens when you turn loose two large grizzly bears into a back of nearly a hundred bored Auphe? You get a long slow bloodbath, and it's not the Auphe that are getting strips taken off their bones. I got in on the fun, pulling a few loose strips free myself.

By the time night fell, there were only bloodstains on the floor and nothing else to show for the bear-baiting. I was sitting on the floor, half-asleep, drowsing to the lullabye of thousands and thousands of damned souls screaming for revenge. I was woken up by the sound of Samuel's voice, dull and quiet, looking for me. I got to my feet, dusting off my jeans, and headed that way.

"Hey, Sammy. You bring Genghis with you? I could use a snack." I smiled sunnily at him. I was actually quite full of raw bear steak, but hey, I'd take human too.

"Where do you want the equipment?" he asked, resolutely ignoring me. He was all business, grim and humorless as a Baptist in a whorehouse.

"In front of the far wall, about twenty feet back." I glanced at the towards the one wall not covered with boxes or crates. "Keep them to the side and leave a path. And jack the amps all the way up, Sam-I-am, I'm about to make some serious noise."

He nodded and turned away sharply. I ambled after him, hands in my coat pockets. "Need any help, buddy? It'll be just like old times. You won't even have to pay me."

"No thanks." He brushed me off without even turning to look. "I didn't bring my long spoon."

Literate bastard, I thought with amused tolerance. I could have told him there was no devil to sup with here. The rest of us wouldn't have stood for the competition. I watched him set up the equipment. For a rinky-dink bar band, it was some impressive stuff. The speakers were huge; Samuel had to bring them in on a dolly and even then it was a struggle. It was good luck for me. I had Caliban's breeding, I had the supernatural battery under the floor, and I had the Auphe's guidance. (Damned and you don't know it, bitch.) But more than that, I had myself. I had talents of my own and that would be the deciding factor. Millions of years was a huge chasm to bridge. It wouldn't help to get a boost.

"Where do you want the microphone stand?" Samuel asked me, voice detached and toneless. He was staring somewhere over my right shoulder, boring and boring.

I stepped sideways and firmly planted myself in his field of vision, snapping my fingers. I wasn't going to be ignored and I wasn't going to let him hide from what was happening. (Open your eyes to what you've done.) He'd gone in with the Auphe open-eyed and now he couldn't change that. "No stand. I saw your singer use a headset. That's what I want."

I'd need my hands free to open the gate.

(Amateur.)

Samuel went, gaze empty and blank. Well, too bad he was losing all his fun. I watched the Auphe come together, swirling around eachother like sharks in a feeding pattern, falling into ranks, hissing laughter and bright red eyes gleaming. Oh they knew.

"It is time."

The whisper was repeated a hundred times over, rising into an atonal concerto that swelled high into the rafters. The chant melted into an inarticulate, _needful_ moan that twisted the air like a knife twisted into guts. It was the sound of a multitude of monsters calling home. They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched me with the intensity of an exploding sun. Hundred of bloody eyes were locked unswervingly in my direction. Their icy, fetid breath panted in short excited bursts as their long fingers clenched and unclenched into spider knots. Mouths gaped, lips skimming over adamantine teeth as they mewled uncontrollably. They were the right hand of Death itself, pale and pitiless.

Anyone with less intestinal fortitude would have been curled up on the floor gibbering. Me? I took it as my due. I'd always known I was a star. (Fuck you're one arrogant prancing bitch.) Without me, the Auphe had nothing. I was the key, and this gate was a lock only I could open. At this moment I was, as I'd always suspected, God. Spreading my arms, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Opening my eyes, I smiled gently at the Auphe.

A shaken breathe broke beside me. "Jesus. Sweet Jesus."

I tilted my head towards Samuel. "Oh, I've got my sights set higher than that." I plucked the headset from his frozen hands.

"What are they going to do?" he whispered, voice strained, terror lighting his eyes.

"I think it's a little late to be worrying about that now," I gloated, as I slipped on the headset. He started backing away. "Oh, you might as well stick around for the show. There's nowhere you can hide from this, Sammy. Nowhere in the world."

(That's what you think, bitch. Come and get it.)

I turned to face the empty wall, my waiting audience behind me. The anticipation was a fatal silence, quivering, waiting. Before me, the leared wall, a blank canvas for an artist's hand. Beneath me the undying fury of restless souls howled for release.

I gave it to them.

The energy rocketed into me with force of a freight train and I reveled in it. Mindless, gibbering with fury and need, the energy flooded me with a cold flaming fury. It kept coming and coming until I thought I would explode into a thousand shards of rage and death. It was for me, all for me. I felt my muscles lock rigid, felt my eyes open wide and blind. The sizzle of ions raced over my skin and my blood felt like it was boiling in my veins as I rose into the air. Feet inches off the floor, a fly in amber, it went on and on and on, an ocean pouring into a teacup. And still it went on, until every cell was screaming in protest, stretched, straining, full.

At last it stopped, and I was burning from the inside out. Blind and burning alive but I didn't have to see. I spread my hands, framing the gate, and I channeled all that fury, that frenzied savagery, into one amplified, earth-shattering note. All of us banshees, we all sang; some called it wailing or shrieking, but it was none of those things. It was beautiful, passionate, life-destroying song. And that song fed every iota of the stored energy within me into a dark creation, channeled it into wholly unnatural birth.

The gate opened.

It was as simple as that. A little song, a little dance, a little open sesame, and here we were at the end of the world.

As my vision returned, I could see the gate, swirling sluggishly on the wall, eighteen feet tall by nearly the same number wide. Through tears in the rippling and foaming grey light, I could see glimpses of a velvety purple sky dotted with stars nearly as big as your fist. Air wafted through, warm and redolent with sulfur, bitter musk, and sweetgrass. I remembered the smell. It was the scent of lava rivers, massive animals that moved majestically as ships, and grass a shade of green no longer found in nature. It was...

"Home." The Auphe said it for me. In their rasping, sand-scraping tongue they said the word with more reverence than I'd known they had in them. "Home."

(You underestimate us, bitch.)

With the energy gone from me and into the gate, I was dropped back to the floor. My arms were still extended and I was shaking with the effort to hold the rip in time and space. "No time like the present, boss," I gritted between clenched teeth. "This baby isn't going to stay open much longer."

Behind me came a snake's hissing sigh from a hundred mouths that managed to sound as one. A culmination of centuries of want and work had arrived and the Auphe were joined as one in the moment. And together they took that first step in perfect synchronicity. I heard it: a ponderous thud that echoed like thunder. The lightning came a split-second later in the form of a sword stroke when Niko and Robin came out of the left speaker. It was like a magician's trick: now you see them, now you don't - only in reverse. Niko's blade had split the speaker's cover from the inside in one quicksilver flash. Stepping through the opening, he paused, taking in the warehouse, the Auphe army...and at last, me. (He always knows where I am.)

The speaker, damn, that was ingenious. I'd noticed the imbalance when I had sung, but I'd assumed it was a mechanical malfunction. Not so. Samuel had brought me the speakers...one for me and one for betrayal. A hell of a time for that son of a bitch to develop scruples! The gate tugged at my attention, sweat prickling the back of my neck; in a few minutes it would devour the last of the power within it and start siphoning off my own life force. If that happened, or if I lost my focus, it would instantly turn me inside out. While a nifty special effect, it wasn't in my best interest. I was willing to work for the Auphe, not_ die_ for them.

(Too bad, bastard.)

Robin was staring at the gate with a peculiar mixture of longing and horror on his triangular face. "No. It cannot..._ektos mas_. Niko, it is a gate to the past. It's a time before humans. If the Auphe go through there..." He didn't have to finish. The implications were clear. Niko nodded once, silently.

His face was utterly emotionless, a blank mask of nothing, like a plastic store dummy. There was no humanity in that face - cold grey eyes like solid wall, features immobile. A dead face, the soulless face of a monster or a corpse. Niko lunged. I was tied to the gate and I couldn't move for fear of losing my control. I reared my head back, venom pooling in my mouth, and as Niko's blade touched skin I spat. He jerked his head aside, venom all across his cheek and neck, skin reddening and swelling. I felt the jolt but it wasn't until I looked down that I realized...

...he'd just put his katana straight through my ribcage.

Well, fuck.

I opened my mouth to curse at him. What came out instead was _not_ what I'd intended to say at all. "Took you too long, Nik." With the puzzling words still lingering on my tongue, I felt the gate wrenching from control... The deadly grey surface shimmered and rippled. Distantly, I could hear gunshots - Samuel and Robin had shotguns. The hell, had they mugged Rambo on the way over or what? Despite the guns, the Auphe were still coming, focused on the gate...the gate with had shifted, changed, and the huge drain of energy was gone.

The gate led to Tumulus now and as the first Auphe tumbled though, Caliban was laughing and laughing in my head. (_Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, the falcon cannot hear the falconer!_ Darkling, you dipshit moron.) But we were one!

Niko snatched the blade free from my chest. I coughed, venom and blood curdling in my mouth. He looked to the gate, then to me, long blonde braid whipping like a counterweight. I coughed again, felt blood running down my front, down my back, and warm deep inside my chest. Oh fuck. Niko might have gone to the right and missed my heart, but from the count of ribs he'd still nicked something pretty vital to life. (Oh, he knows what he's doing, Nik does.) His non-expression changed not one whit as he bent. My knees buckled, the gate flickering wildly out of control, and the gate vanished as my headset shattered to pieces on the floor. Me, I was gathered over Niko's shoulder. He bolted for the door. Goodfellow and Samuel were following, adding cover-fire to a horde of_ really ticked off_ Auphe. Not only had their gate been hijacked, I'd failed them and now their pet guinea pig was fatally stabbed _and_ being kidnapped. Yeah, safe to say that if they caught us, the only way to identify me from the others would be a DNA analysis of the remains.

(You never knew what you were up against, Darkling.) I could still hear Cal's voice, laughter, delighted and dark and very very much like the Auphe in the middle of slaughter.

The world faded.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Break

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to start this piece; this song is very moving and I suggest you read this chapter listening to it.

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for the uber-prompt review! Thanks also to halesgirl101, Comuterale, and LonelyAura Mai for reviewing!

Questions to Cal and Niko answered at the bottom!

_Quick vote:_ Do ya'll want the final chapter posted on Wednesday, or do ya'll want the final chapter _and_ the first chapter of the sequel posted together on Sunday? (Hard mode: if I get more than four reviews today voting for the next chapter now, I'll post it tonight.)

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_**Chapter Fourteen:** Break_

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_Take me down to the riverbed_  
_Take me down to the fighting end_  
_Wash the poison from off my skin_  
_Show me how to be whole again_

_Fly me up on a silver wing  
Past the black where the sirens sing  
Warm me up in a nova's glow  
And drop me down to the dream below_

_'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of glass_  
_Hardly anything left for you to see..._  
-"Castle of Glass," Linkin Park

* * *

Darkness. Lights flashing by. The rumble of a car engine. A sword in my chest - no, burning fingers twisting, opening up my flesh to let the blood flow hot across my skin. A gasping breath - the press of suffocation, burning and choking. Niko's hands, his smell, his arms around my body, holding me close. Robin's voice, Niko's blank answers, and the smothering press of darkness.

In and out of time.

In and out of memory.

Running barefoot down a dirt alley in a town with no name; a warm furry body cradled in my arms and the milk-breath of a puppy in my face. I was laughing, fantastically happy; for my fifth birthday Niko had paid the neighbors five dollars to lend me their puppy for the day. I couldn't keep it but for one day alone, he was mine. It was one of the best days of my life.

I was older than any human civilization, crouching on the gold-and-lapis-lazuli sarcophagus of a pharaoh who'd died a hundred days previously. I didn't know his name and I didn't care; the chief priest had paid handsomely for me to guard the chamber. Already tomb robbers had come creeping in, barely two weeks since the old king had been dead, and I had a freshly-severed head to use as a pillow. It was one of the best days of my life.

I was almost as old as time itself and yet younger than a mayfly. I breached the darkness again, fingers like brands in my chest, the blood flowing down my side in a river and over my lips in bubbling froth. My heart hurt, beating hard and fast and shallow, and the pain was shaking me loose from time. I could smell over the iron tang Niko nearby, and it was his hand giving me pain, giving me life, letting the blood out of my rapidly-filling chest so I could breathe just a little deeper, last a little longer.

I faded away again, aware he was always with me.

The car was stopped. Niko was getting out, jostling me, holding me close.

"RAFFERTY!" he bellowed.

Niko rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was like the world would stop. A voice meant to shout commands to legions on the battlefield, to be heard for miles. So much power, so much command, and he was such a force to be reckoned with. When he shouted the healer's name I felt hope rise up against the darkness.

Rise up, while I fell. My chest burned unbearably like ice, and I couldn't...couldn't breathe...

Rafferty's hands felt like fire on my cold, cold chest.

And it was too late. I was gone, tearing free, tearing apart in the sudden icy cold. Tearing in_ half_ and for a moment we saw one another, face to face - Darkling, and Cal, never one and never whole but two and separate and dying together. Crash and burn.

And then there was nothing, serene darkness, sweetness and the sound of song and joy. I was home.

And then I was _awake_ with Rafferty swearing rough and harsh over me and his hands like burning brands on my chest. I coughed, spat blood, and tasted the lingering bitterness of poison. I could hear fighting, Robin swearing, Niko's katana singing, and Darkling laughing wild and deadly.

I was laying on the winter grass in Rafferty's front lawn, and Rafferty's face was pale with wide wild eyes. "The _fuck_ was that?" he demanded, through clenched teeth, breath smoking in the snowy chill.

I couldn't answer, too busy coughing up the last of the blood in my lungs, my heart beating steady and painful in my chest. I needed to...move, get up, fight back. Rafferty tried to keep me down but I shoved my way up, reached habitually for my Glock, looked for Niko Niko_ Niko_ and there he was. Hemming Darkling in with Robin and Catcher, the dark slithering shape dancing back and forth, clawing, laughing, mocking them. He knew Niko, could evade him easily, was taunting him.

I raised my gun. Niko was between me and Darkling. No-one except Rafferty was paying me any attention.

Even as I pulled the trigger, Niko stepped soundlessly aside, out of position.

I knew he would know. He always did.

The .45 hollowpoint bullet blew out Darkling's chest in a spectacular explosion of white froth, black skin, and fragile glass-like bones. I smiled at his shocked expression, and my face felt so stiff. My voice felt rusty and chilled somehow. "Take that, little gloating bitch," I rasped. My chest ached and burned and_ hurt_ and breathing was making me dizzy.

I slumped back against Rafferty.

My last sight was that of Niko flying towards Darkling with blade readied, and no longer were his eyes emotionless. No, my brother's grey eyes were molten with raw fury and hate and bloodlust.

There would be no more Darkling.

I took that thought with me into the darkness, and it was a comforting one.

It was dark a long time. Timeless, quiet, and without dreams.

I woke up slowly, and I knew Niko was there even before I opened my eyes. My chest felt raw, like it'd been scrubbed on the inside with a Brillo pad. But I was breathing, and I was awake, and I was alive, and I was _me_. I opened my eyes and looked for Niko. He was sitting on the bed with me, guarding me, his naked sword balanced across his thighs. He was staring blankly across the room. Rafferty's surgery, I guessed - bland walls, cheap linoleum flooring, shelves on shelves of medical supplies. I looked at Niko in the stark unforgiving light of the flourescents; the muscles in his jaw stood out like carved marble under the stubble. There were dark sleepless half-circles smudged under his eyes, almost like bruises, and deep lines of pain scored his face. He sat still as a statue, watching over me, and his face was expressionless as a mask.

He was shutting everyone out.

But he never shut me out.

I didn't try to sit up. I just reached my hand out, and touched his wrist. "Hey. Nik." My voice felt faded and scratchy, throaty from sleep. "Nik. Look at me."

A tremble ran through him, and he did. He looked at me, grey eyes cold and dead and blank as a wall. Niko was gone away in his head, blocking everyone out. But I was out here, and he needed me, and he'd let me in. It might take a while, though... The minutes ticked by and I could hear Rafferty come in, stop and wait. I could hear Robin join him at the door, start to speak and fall silent. I met Niko's gaze steadily, steadily, and saw him crack the walls. It started with a shiver, a blink, and his lips twitched faintly. Of a sudden he dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, lips parted, and somewhere in the back of his throat was a noise deep and wordless and hurt. He shut his eyes, opened them, and he was _here_ again and he was _hurt_ and he reached out. I sat up shakily and he held me close like I was something fragile that might break. He buried his face in my hair and sat there and shook all over in long violent shudders.

I rested my head on his shoulder and reached up to wrap my hand around his braid. I could see Rafferty and Robin watching from the doorway.

"Hey. Raff. He's hurt," I called, voice cracking. I coughed. Niko's hands were clenched in my shirt. Oh hey, I was wearing scrubs. And I was hungry. And I was resolutely thinking of Nik and only Nik and nothing else.

Rafferty came closer, wariness on his face. "I know. When I tried to heal him he nearly took off my head," he grumbled. But he reached out, and laid a hand on Niko's shoulder. Rafferty made a peculiar face and of a sudden Niko went utterly boneless against me.

"Wha - hey!" I protested, crumpling back down to the mattress under the extra weight, Niko's sword clattering to the floor.

"Fuck. Robin! Did you _know_ this nutcase has been walking on a_ goddamn broken leg_?!" Rafferty demanded, pulling Niko's legs gently up onto the bed, and running his hands down the left one.

"What?! No! He told me it was sprained!" Robin protested, crowding closer.

Why...? The car. The Park. I squeezed my eyes shut and very very carefully did not think. No breaking the eggs. That had been...a day ago. More? How long had I been asleep?

"Two day old fracture of the tibia," Rafferty reported, in a low-throated growl. "Complete dislocation of the fibula and a dozen cracked ribs and a partially dislocated shoulder and half the ligaments in his entire body are strained and he's goddamn anemic from all the bruising. He's fucked up good, what happened? Was he hit by a truck?"

"A Corvette." The answer dropped numbly from my lips, and it was almost funny except it really wasn't. I was breathing too fast and my chest hurt. Oh fuck I was about to have a panic attack. I could tell.

Apparently Rafferty could too, because when he looked at me his eyes widened. He reached out and touched my knee, and I was gone.

Darkness was becoming a comfortable thing.

I woke up spooned against Niko. It was night and it was very, very dark in the surgery room. I hadn't dreamed again, and for a moment I wasn't sure if I was really _me_ and my heart seized cold in my chest. Niko muttered my name and I shivered. He stroked my hair, tenderly, and for a moment it was okay. Then I began to _remember_ and the dry brush of his lips on the back of my neck made me cringe, trying to pull away. He held me tighter.

"No, Nik, no. Let me go," I hissed. I'd done...terrible, horrible things. I'd been more of a monster than I'd ever thought I could be. I didn't deserve this; the protection, the love, the gentleness in Niko's hands as he held me down.

"Shut up, little monster," he whispered back, and it made my breath catch to hear it - an _endearment_ like that, not a curse like it should be. "I've only just got you back and I am not letting go anytime soon," Niko continued, in the wake of my sudden stillness. "You're a monster but you're _my_ monster and you're _my_ little brother and you can't get away from me. I won't let you. No matter what."

He pinched me on the arm, sharp and hard and it made me shudder. "Nik, I was...I killed..."

"You didn't kill Georgina. She's alive and she will heal."

I shook my head. "I killed someone else. And a werewolf. And...oh God Nik I _ate_ them too..." I gagged reflexively. "L-like in Tumulus..." Oh they'd made me eat humans just to prove that I was Auphe, told me so happily after I'd eaten it...

"Shhh." Niko pinched me again. "You were not in control. You were no more responsible than if I held a gun to your head and forced you to do it." His arm over my chest pulled, shifted me closer. I could feel his heartbeat against my ribs, steady and strong, a counterbeat to mine.

He didn't get it. I felt sick. "No, Nik...I...I enjoyed it. I knew what I was doing and I _goddamn enjoyed it_." I was starting to shake. Niko pinched me, twisted it and then bit me on the fuckin' ear what the _hell_ ow! "Ow dammit!"

"Listen to me, Cal, and remember this," Niko growled, and I shuddered, old habit bringing a sense of dread. Remembering things left _marks_ because bruises and scars_ reminded_ and Niko was very firm on that philosophy. "You aren't enjoying it now. Would you do it again if you had the choice?"

"I...well, no..." I started. I wasn't sure I'd _have_ the choice. What if Darkling had kick-started something monster in me...

"You were under the influence," Niko told me, firm and unrelenting. "You are not to blame for what you did or felt. Nothing that happened is your fault in this. Nothing you felt then has any bearing on how you should feel now. I _know_ it feels differently, but _trust me_ on this Cal. There is nothing truer than this. None of this is your fault. _None_ of this should make you feel guilty."

I wanted to protest. I did. But there was something...something almost_ raw_ in his voice that slid cold down my spine. Somewhere along the way, Niko had done something he regretted. And now he was telling me his truth about it. It was a lot like what he'd told me about Sophia beating me, calling me names. It wasn't my fault. Except it was, of course, because if I hadn't been born a monster...if I hadn't been a monster for Darkling to meld with...

Niko pinched me again. "Ow!"

"Cal."

I hesitated. One the one hand, I wanted to believe that. On the other hand... "I'm a monster, Nik."

"It doesn't make you any less of a victim here, or any more deserving of it," Niko answered, quick as the bounce of a thrown ball.

The word "victim" grated like hell. I wasn't a victim. I was a monster. "Niko."

"Cal." Niko sat up, rolled me on my back, and put his hand over my heart, pinning me lightly to the bed as he leaned over me on an elbow. His braid fell over his shoulder and rested on my chest, a heavy familiar weight. "Believe me. It is not your fault. Whatever else you decide, that is the truth, and I will always tell the truth to you."

"Like Sophia," I said, and couldn't stop the bitter words despite the instant regret I felt at saying them. Niko was nothing like her.

"Like Sophia," Niko agreed, after a moment, with a bitter humorless laugh.

I closed my eyes. I still felt guilty as all hell. I felt sick. I felt _dirty_ with what I'd done, how I'd enjoyed it. Hell, how I'd damn near got off on it. And Niko was trying to tell me it wasn't my fault. "Under the influence," like Darkling had been a drug or alcohol. No, he had been me, and I had been him, and in the end we were both monsters. I didn't deserve Niko's trusting hand over my heart, his earnest eyes, and his quiet truths. I didn't deserve the love that kept him near and I definitely didn't deserve the way he laid down again beside me, pulled me close.

I didn't deserve it at all...

….and I wanted it so_ badly_. Part of me wanted to believe him so much. I wanted...I wanted it to be true. Niko loved me and he always would and I didn't...didn't deserve it...

It was dark, so nobody could tell I was crying. Niko knew anyway but he always knew.

I stayed awake for a long time after that, which felt weirdly normal. Darkling had slept instantly and without dreams. I had nightmares and insomnia and fuckin' PTSD and even if I felt like shit scraped off a shoe was about the worth of me, at least I was _me_ and alone again in my own head. Fuck, I'd never make fun of people with multiple personalities again. Niko slept, slept heavily and bonelessly in a way that told me he was utterly exhausted. He wouldn't have slept, I realized, as long as I was gone...he'd probably been running on nothing but coffee, vodka, and the occasional granola bar. And he'd stabbed me and killed me and I'd never felt so grateful in my life.

God, we were so messed up.

Somewhere near dawn I slept again, something light and full of disconnected, nonsensical dreams. Niko got up and that half woke me up, but not enough. I guess I was pretty exhausted too.

I woke up for good on one of those stupid falling dreams, the one where you jolt awake all over. I was _starving_ and feeling, well, a little better. Still like shit, but less...less...I dunno. More like I might be able to get up and live? Less like somebody should just kill me? I dunno how to describe it. I was sitting up in bed, and trying to see how big of a scar Niko had left on my chest when Rafferty swooped down on me like a frickin' vulture on a roadkill rabbit.

"I had to close it entirely so you wouldn't get a pneumothorax instead of a hemothorax. Congrats, thanks to your psychotic brother, you have a matching set front and back," Rafferty grumbled, reaching out to lay a hand on my forehead. I had the feeling he wasn't checking for a fever, but doing an all-over scan or something. Creepy but kinda cool.

"Uh...yeah...thanks, Rafferty." I swallowed a little.

We didn't know him all that well. We'd met him way back when we'd first come here. Met him in the Park, and I'd been able to smell the healing talent on him...though at the time I hadn't known what that crisp _green_ smell had been, only that it was a really _good_ smell. He'd known something was off - hah hah, Auphe - about me, even if he hadn't known what it was exactly. He'd given us his card, telling us we might need a healer for me someday, since I couldn't go to the hospital. And that had been Rafferty Jeftichew.

His shaggy auburn hair still needed a good trim, and his amber eyes were impatient as ever. He quirked an eyebrow at me, the one bisected with the fine-lined scar. "You're calmer than I expected." He ran his hand down the back of my arm, and I realized from the heat he was wiping away the pinch-bruises Niko had left. I blinked.

"I...yeah. There's not much...I mean, freaking the fuck out won't really...do anything. And I really hate how panic attacks make me feel." I shut my mouth. Oops.

"For someone with PTSD you're doing real well," Rafferty retorted, dryly. He shook his head at my betrayed expression. "It's in your brain chemistry. It's a little harder to tell, since you're not entirely human, but I can tell." He hesitated, then crouched down in front of me. "Cal. Niko's the one beating you, isn't he."

Not a question. I grimaced. I was hungry and I had to piss and I didn't want to have another one of these conversations. I was getting damn tired of them. "So what if he is?"

Rafferty grimaced, and his canine teeth were pointed as mine - nothing inhuman, but just a little longer and sharper than was normal. "Cal, you need to get away from him, before he hurts you. He killed you on purpose. He's a psychopath, Cal, and you're going to end up another statistic."

I'd heard everything but that last before. "A...what? Niko's not crazy."

"Cal. I healed him. I can_ tell_. I knew about your mental issues, right? Then trust me on this. Niko's crazy. He's insane. He's a psychopath. His brain chemistry is so off he's practically a textbook example. He was _walking_ on a goddamn broken leg. Not a hairline fracture, Cal, _broken_. In two. He splinted it and he kept walking on it. Do I have to tell you what kind of pain that would be? He_ killed_ you and as far as I can tell he's not the least guilty about it." Rafferty's lips were peeled back from his teeth in disgust. "If you took him to a psychiatrist they'd diagnose him in a heartbeat and drug him stupid with antipsychotics and mood stabilizers. He's not just a little nuts, not just a little touched with PTSD - though he's got that too, in spades - he's flat-out psycopathic."

I blinked under the barrage of accusations. No one had ever tried to tell me Niko was insane. Cruel, yes, a drunkard, yes, a piece of scum, yes, but not that he was a psychopath. "...aren't those the robot-killers or whatever?" I asked, trying to remember.

Rafferty dropped his face into his hands with a low exasperated growl. "Yes. Emotionless killers. They're nature's mistake. Like Ted Bundy."

It took a minute for the name to sink in, and then I was just _pissed_. "The hell?! Niko is not a serial killer! Or a sadist! Or anything like that! He's my _brother_!"

Rafferty's head snapped up. "He's charming, manipulative, and he's so far off in the head it makes my skin crawl to heal him. Cal, he _beats_ you, has for years. Did he set those fingers of yours himself? He did a poor job on the pinky, didn't he, a little nerve damage there. What about your arms, all those little stress fractures from being grabbed? How's the scarring in the shoulder from being dislocated? Your ribs? Hell, those are a mess! You've got _knife scars_ on your _back_. And I really, really somehow doubt the cigarette burns on your shoulders are your fault."

"Sophia did that," I protested, faintly. "She'd stub them out on me if I got too close. And he didn't break my fingers, I got them slammed in a door at school. Bullies."

The knife scars, yeah, those had been Niko. Not often, and not deep, just enough to make a little scar and remind me while it healed about things I needed to remember. Like how violent fantasies of beating a certain hand-breaking bully to death with a brick in my backpack were just not acceptable.

"And I tore the ligaments in my shoulder playing baseball anyway." Niko and I had been good at it; I pitched, he batted. Niko could hit anything out of the park if he tried hard enough. When I wasn't pitching to him, I could strike out any hitter. I could have been a professional, and I'd known 'cause people had told me, and I'd practiced really goddamn hard. And then I'd hurt my shoulder and then the Auphe had gotten me and everything went to shit. That's life. It all goes to shit.

"But he hurts you, and he hasn't stopped. Cal, I'm not just blowing smoke out my ass here. I know you've both had a rough life, both of you have some mental scarring. But I'm afraid that if you go home with him the next thing I'll see of you is a corpse. He brought you here dead, Cal. Dead. And he stood over us while I tried to heal you and there was no goddamn expression on his face at all. He wasn't there."

Now that I could defend. "He does that when he has to keep going. He goes away inside his head so he can do what he has to. Rafferty, Darkling _was_ me. He didn't have any choice. I don't even know how he knew Darkling had left himself an out."

"Disassociation is not a healthy coping mechanism when you take it to that level, Cal," Rafferty pointed out, rubbing his face roughly.

"And alcohol isn't either, though I notice you've not brought that up, yet," Niko commented, lightly, from the doorway. We both jumped. I hadn't even smelled him - the airflow was all strange here. Niko was washed and fresh-shaven and dressed in his own clothes. His hair was in a damp ponytail down his back, and he smiled at me, a little ruefully. He had a beer in hand.

Rafferty rose, scowling. "No, it isn't, and I don't have to tell you what you're doing to your liver, I hope!"

"Oh, I know." Niko saluted him with the beer. "Cal, there's food in the kitchen for you. Feel up to walking there, or should I bring it here?"

"I think I can." I glanced furtively at Rafferty. I was still angry at him. Niko was _not_ a killer. He was Niko. He'd never tried to kill me until recently, and he'd had damn good reason for that. I put my feet on the ice-cold floor, and stood up slowly. I felt wobbly, sweaty, and had to pee so bad it was painful.

"Alright. I think Rafferty and I need a little talk to explain things. Shout if you need help," Niko told me, leaning on the doorframe. He was relaxed and he wasn't mad. He smelled mellow and clean and familiar and it made me feel a little better.

I went to the bathroom and decided a quick shower wouldn't hurt. I was pretty dirty.

Then I noticed the mirror.

I think I had a mini-panic-attack. I was shaking like it, and I'd lost some time, because the mirror was shattered and the soap dish was too and I had my back to the frigid tile on the wall, breathing hard. Someone was knocking on the bathroom door, and when it opened Robin's curly head poked around the edge. "Hey, you okay in here...Cal!"

I swallowed, nodded. I stood straight, pushed away from the wall. "I...yeah. I'm...I'm okay." I looked at the mirror-shards in the sink, and then up at Robin. "I'm okay now."

Robin's face tightened with understanding. "Need help?"

"No. I'm okay now," I repeated. I dragged my breathing under control and clenched my hands to stop the shaking. I still felt rattled, triggery, but not so bad I needed to go sit somewhere safe. "Seriously. I just need to take a piss."

Robin nodded slowly, concern in his green eyes. "Okay." He disappeared again, and I examined the tiled floor for glass shards.

I had my piss, and took a shower. The shower was in an old iron tub, the kind with clawed feet. It had rust stains on the outside, the pregnant curve of a waddling hippo. On the inside, though, it was sparkling clean and smelled of soap. It was the wrong kind of soap, but...

I found dried flakes of blood on my hip, and that...for some reason that just did me in. I had to sit down in the tub and shake, my knees too weak to hold me up, my heart thundering in my chest. Niko had killed me. It'd left a neat scar not even two inches long right under my fourth rib. I remembered _dying_ and suffocating from the inside out, my chest so full of blood my heart hadn't been able to beat. I'd lost a lot of blood. And Niko had done that and Niko had brought me here and how had he known that Darkling would split away in those last moments? I knew how he'd known I was still in there - I'd told him that myself. But I'd told him it was too late. He was too late. And he hadn't been.

The water shutting off was what roused me, and I could taste salt on my lips. I'd been crying again - Niko was bending into the tub with a towel, sleeves rolled up, a patient expression on his face. I pushed him off and got to my own feet and wrapped my own goddamn towel around myself, thank you _very_ much. Niko huffed a chuckle, and the tender smile on his face just _hurt_ and I had to look away. I didn't _deserve_ that. Not at all.

Niko's boots tapped the tile and he snatched me out of the tub, towel and all. I shouted in surprise and he laughed, the _asshole_ and tumbled me upside-down, tossed my wildly-kicking legs over his shoulder, and marched out of the bathroom with my face against his front beltloops.

"Fuck you you motherfuckin' asswipe! Let me down! You goddamn son of a cross-eyed dumbshit bitch! You jack off to fat gay porn!" I shouted.

"With you watching, ass-face," Niko retorted, laughing. I did my best to knee him in the kidneys. "Ow! Little bitch!"

"Bastard!"

Niko tossed me down on the bed I'd just vacated in the surgery. My towel and I parted ways, but I bounced and came up swinging, wet hair stinging my face. Niko ducked and feinted at my gut. I flinched back and nearly fell off the bed. Niko grabbed my wrist and kept me upright. He was grinning. Asshat.

"Get dressed, numb-nuts," he ordered, and turned to leave. He ducked and ran when I threw the pillow after him, and a whole long string of insults.

But I felt better. Annoyed as hell, but better. I got dressed - the clothes were in fact _mine_, an old favorite long sleeved shirt with the thumb-holes in the extra-long-cuffs and an ancient pair of jeans and he'd even brought me long underwear. That was so unfair because it was perfect and I dried my hair off best I could, finally warm again. I went into the kitchen, and Robin and Niko had actual real food. And beer. I looked at Rafferty leaning on the counter, then at Niko sitting at the table. "Store run?"

"There was nothing edible in here," Niko agreed. "So we went for a beer run. And no, you don't get any beer." This as both Rafferty and I opened our mouths. I looked at the healer. He looked mostly pissed, but he had a beer and what smelled like a roast-beef sandwich. Catcher was at his feet and had a huge butcher's bone. The raw scent of it socked me in the empty gut with memories of crunching_ fingerbones_ between my back teeth and I lunged for the sink. There was absolutely nothing in me to vomit up but I gave it a damn good shot.

Niko hovered and Rafferty laid a hand on my forehead. "Not sick," he muttered.

I sagged sideways into Niko. "The bone..." I retched, closed my eyes, and shuddered.

Niko picked me up without effort, this time a cradle-carry, and marched me straight out of the room. I let him, gagging all the way. Fuck fuck _fuck._ I could smell Rafferty hovering still. Niko sat down on the bed and I distantly decided I might be about to have _another_ panic attack. I was going to be _so_ sore tomorrow. I was shaking hard. Niko grabbed the blanket from the bed and started wrapping me in it, tight enough it was hard to move. He was humming under his breath as he did it, easy and quiet.

"Let me put him out," Rafferty said, roughly.

Niko shook his head. "He'll be okay."

"This is not a time to let him tough it out. Anxiety attacks are-"

"It's not full-blown yet. I know how to stop him before he gets started. I've been working on this for almost five years, Rafferty, I think I have an idea of what I'm doing." Niko's answer was faintly annoyed, but the hand on my head was easy and his body was relaxed, without tension. I tried to catch the slow, even rhythm of his breathing, match it with mine.

I don't know _why_ being bundled up in a blanket helped, but it often did. Same reason I guess I used to wedge myself under the bed, or the couch - hide somewhere tight and get small so they couldn't get me again. Niko was humming, an old, old lullabye that he'd always used to sing when I'd been little. I knew by heart just the way he'd hum it, too, the catch and pause in the notes as he breathed, and I breathed and little by little the tension went away. I still felt sick but probably because I hadn't eaten anything for so long.

I lifted my head. There was a clock in the room - a little over twenty minutes had passed, I thought. Rafferty looked reluctantly impressed. Niko looked at me carefully, then nodded and smiled. "With both of you in here I feel like a basket-case," I complained, but my voice was still wobbly.

Niko chuckled. "Rafferty seems to think I shouldn't be alone with you while we're here."

I shot a half-hearted glare at Rafferty. He was doing his job but damn if it didn't grate. I wasn't _helpless_. He stared back, distinctly unimpressed. "No meat, I take it."

"No meat," Niko agreed. "There's an orange and some peanut-butter. And bananas, unless Robin has used them all for unmentionable purposes..."

"Damn, one ass-pat and you're misaligning my character everywhere," Robin protested, but cheerfully enough, as he came bearing sandwiches and the orange. I forgave him then and there for being annoying - he was now my favorite person in the room. He'd brought me _food_. I wriggled free of the blanket and held out my hands. He smiled as he passed the plate over.

"That was not a 'pat.' I should charge you for sexual assault," Niko quipped. "My left ass-cheek will never be the same."

Robin grinned unrepentantly. "I was being gentle."

"I'm trying to eat," I protested, and passed Niko the orange. He started rolling it between his palms, and the scent of citrus overpowered even the peanut-butter and banana sandwich I was eating. I ignored the glass of water as I ate.

Niko whipped out a very practical pocket-knife and cut a hole in the top of the very-squashed orange. He passed it back to me, laying the core and the plug of skin down on the sandwich plate. I sealed my mouth over the hole and happily sucked down a mouthful of the fresh-squeezed orange-juice inside. Damn that was good.

Then I remembered doing the same with a still-beating werewolf's heart, and I threw up again all over Robin's bare feet.

* * *

Questions for Cal and Niko! _(Shuffles the muses forward to sit on their battered couch. Niko looks amused, Cal looks bored. Cal slouches in a couch corner, Niko sits bolt upright with a leg folded under him._)

**Kin-outcast1 asked:** "Niko, how do you feel towards Cal WHILE you are abusing him, and AFTER you've abused him?"

Niko: _(Leans over and casually plugs Cal's ears)_  
Cal: _(Shrugs him off, jams his earbuds in his ears, and cranks up his music so he can't hear, with a sly smirk)_  
Niko: _(Smiles charmingly, chinhands)_ Well, the answer is highly dependent on the situation. I suppose... _(He draws the word out, looking thoughtful, but there's wicked amusement glittering in his eyes)_ I suppose the most common situation is that I'm mad as hell and Cal is being a brat. Then I am angry, justly so, during and patently annoyed after.  
Cal: _(Mutters under his breath)_  
Niko: Hush, that's telling secrets. _(Smiles)_

**Halesgirl101 asked Niko:** "if you could control cal's auphe side would you forever have it locked up or would you let it come out and play with you for a bit?"

Niko: I don't control anything of Cal. _(Shrugs expansively with a smile)_  
Cal: _(Thoughtful) _Besides, that might be almost a spoiler for the Roadkill redo, huh?  
Niko: I still don't understand why you're looking forward to that one so much.  
Cal: You're just ticked you get so much flak from Raff and Robin in it. :D  
Niko: ...shut up.

**Comuterale asked:** "what are Cal and Niko's favorite childhood memories?"

Cal: Heeeeey, a happy question! Fuck yes.  
Niko: You go first. You've got more happy memories than I do.  
Cal: ...that sounded so emo I might disown you. _(Thoughtful for a moment, chewing absently on the cuffs of his sleeves)_ Well, I think one of my most favorite memories is when I was about ten, and it was my birthday, and Niko took me out to this one cove on the California coast. This was before the Auphe took me and I didn't mind sand then. We cut school and spent the whole day there. 'Course since it was the middle of frickin' _February_ it was cold as hell, but there was snow all on the beach, and I think it was the most gorgeous, lonely, quiet place I've ever been. I'd like to go back there someday.  
Niko: _(Chuckles fondly)_ Well, I think my favorite childhood memory is probably the day you discovered chocolate covered cherries.  
Cal: Niko.  
Niko: Seriously. You were purring. You were so adorable I just had to take a picture. You were about three at the time, still young enough to actually look cute with chocolate on the end of your nose instead of dorky.  
Cal: I do not purr, you bastard.  
Niko: _(Just grins)_

**LonelyAura Mai asked:** "Ahem. Mr. Niko Leandros... What is your favorite thing to tease Cal about, or alternately, what was the best reaction you ever got out of him while teasing him?"

Cal: He teases me about _everything_. End of story.  
Niko: Oh that's a tough one. The best reaction was probably the time he- _(Gets shoved down on the couch by Cal, who attempts to smother him with a pillow. Niko can be heard laughing, muffledly)_  
Cal: Shut _up_ you enormous _asshat_ you said you wouldn't tell _anyone_ about that!  
Niko: _(Hikes a knee up and rolls Cal off the couch)_ I wasn't going to, but just for that the Celery Incident comes to mind...  
Cal: _(Sits up from the floor scowling)_ Hell, if you do, I'll tell them about the Great Pudding Disaster of '95.  
_(They both consider this, and blanch)_  
Niko: I thought we agreed to never mention that ever again. _(Faintly green under his tan)_  
Cal: _(Sheets of paper have more colour than his face)_ Yeah, sorry, I don't know what got into me.  
Niko: Yeah.  
Cal: Yeah.  
_(They both stare at one another)_  
Niko: ...vodka?  
Cal: ...I'll get the schnapps and the coffee.  
Niko: God I love the way you think.  
_(They both make a beeline for the kitchen, abandoning pillow and mp3 player both in favor of forgetting the Great Pudding Disaster of '95)_


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Burn

**A/N:** I do not own anyone from the Cal Leandros series. I do not own the song lyrics used to frame this piece. I have used this song as Cal's theme in this twisted universe. It's worth a listen!

Thanks to Kin-outcast1 for her uber-prompt review! Thanks also to halesgirl101 and Comuterale for reviewing!

_Story stats:_ Yesterday's chapter was viewed 31 times by 15 visitors; some of you came back twice and three times or more to read and re-read it. While apparently most of you are American, I also have two readers in Canada, one in England, one in Germany, and one in Sweden. (However, the overall story stats say I've got at least one reader in France as well.) Roughly the current review-per-reader ratio for this story is one review per five readers. Not too shabby - other fandoms are worse skewed.

So: Thank you to all ya'll for coming along for the ride! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope ya'll will come take a look at the sequel! I'll post the first chapter on Monday!

* * *

_**Chapter Fifteen:** Burn_

* * *

_I told you I was hurt, bleeding on the inside_  
_I told I was lost in the middle of my life_  
_There's times I stayed alive for you_  
_There's times I would have died for you_  
_There's times it didn't matter at all_

_Will you help me find the right way out?_  
_Or let me take the wrong way down?_  
_Will you straighten me out?_  
_Or make me take the long way around?_  
_I took the low road in_  
_I'll take the high road out_  
_I'll do whatever it takes to be the mistake you can't live without_  
-"The High Road," Three Day's Grace  
(_Malum in Se_ Cal's theme)

* * *

We actually didn't stay long. It was close to sunset when Robin and I were outside, walking in the backyard with Catcher. Niko had brought me coat and scarf and hat, but Robin was shivering in a borrowed jean coat. We were throwing a Frisbee for Catcher, and Robin could throw it higher and farther. I watched Catcher go racing off, furry legs churning through the light drifts of snow, and shook my head. "Give me a baseball and I'll give you a run for your money," I challenged Robin, tugging my scarf up over my nose.

"Really? Too bad there isn't one," he teased back, lightly. There was still something watchful in his green eyes when he looked at me, but he seemed to be accepting that I was alright. Well, physically alright. Mentally, not even I knew what the hell I was.

I took the Frisbee from Catcher when he brought it back. "Hey man, got a baseball anywhere? Robin thinks I can't do shit with it."

Catcher tipped his head, panting white clouds in the air. A huge shaggy red wolf, he looked more like an oversized Irish Setter. Yellow eyes glittered with intelligence and good humor, and after a moment he raced off and dug through the snow. I grinned when he brought me back an ice-crusted, stained, well-worn baseball.

"Hey, now we're talking." I took the ball in my hand and hefted it. Regulation weight, excellent. Then I turned and jogged back towards the house. I could probably make it to the fence at the back of the yard, or pretty damn close. That was almost an outfield. Catcher ran alongside, and after a moment Robin followed. He watched me with interest as I stripped off my knitted glove and started stretching out my arms, my legs.

"I wasn't aware you liked baseball."

I glanced at Robin. "Eh, I played it for a little while. Niko did too. He bats." I stretched out my arm one last time, shoved my glove in my coat pocket, and set my feet, snow crunching under my boots. I looked at Catcher. "Better run fast, man." I grinned at him. Catcher barked. I set my fingers on the worn seams of the ball, wound up good and slow, and threw him a fastball. God I'd missed that, the sudden violent motion, every muscle working hard, and the feel of the ball leaving my hand so fast it damn near sizzled. On a good day I could get it past ninety but today was not that day.

Catcher had to run all the way to the fence to get it. I turned and grinned widely at Robin. He took a step back, but he was smiling too. "I'm impressed. Do it again and I'll believe it wasn't a fluke."

I snorted. "What, like that set-up didn't tell you? I could've gone pro."

Catcher brought the ball back.

It felt good to show off at something non-deadly, for once. Good to play, psych Catcher out with different pitches, and impress Robin with what I could do. It felt a little fake, after all that had happened - surreal, somehow. Robin was at least an appreciative audience, and didn't try to show me up. I'm pretty sure he could've, but he was being nice and while I wasn't used to that it felt kinda good. Not like he was being condescending or anything.

I was resting my shoulder, which was starting to feel achy, and Robin was throwing the Frisbee when the door to the house slammed open and Niko came springing down the steps in a way that suggested he was only just keeping his balance, like he'd been pushed or had come at the stairs backing up.

Rafferty came flying into view, stopped in the doorway; his teeth were bared in a violent snarl. "Get out! Get out! And don't come back you psychotic bastard! Don't you dare show your face here again!" he shouted, voice thick with a wolf's growl and bark.

Catcher barked, too, on alert. I realized I'd crouched and put a hand under my coat, fingers curled around the grip of my gun. Robin looked puzzled. Niko, on the other hand, shot Rafferty an ugly look, less angry and more disgusted and annoyed. I'd seen him give that look right before he started a barfight - 'you aren't really worth my time but if you keep pushing I'll take you down.' He looked at me, jerked his head towards Robin's very nice red Mustang, and turned his back on Rafferty.

I started to jog after him, but Rafferty turned to me. "Cal. You're welcome here if you need it. And you." He nodded to Robin, and there was still anger in him, but he turned and went inside. Catcher raced up the steps after him, and the door slammed so hard I was surprised it hadn't broken.

I jogged after Nik, caught up. "What was that about?" I asked, bewildered.

Niko glanced at Robin, who had come trotting up as well. "Rafferty didn't agree with my methods of...dealing with Darkling." He set a hand on the back of my neck, and his bare cold fingers pinched like fire on the unmarked skin.

He was lying. I knew exactly what the fight had been about - me, and the bruise burning fresh on my nape, a promise of more to come.

"I can see how a healer would have difficulties with that," Robin remarked, as he went around to unlock the doors Niko pointed me into the back seat, of course, and took the front for himself. Dammit. I crawled in and shivered on the expensive leather seat while Robin started the car. Oh hell _yes_ listen to that baby purr. Damn, I wanted a Mustang. The car Robin had found for us was nothing so nice - it was an old El Camino, definitely not a luxury sports car. Man, we never got the good stuff.

I had a question, though, and one that I had to ask. Now was good a time as any. "Nik...how...how did you know? That it would...work, with Darkling?

"I didn't." Niko glanced back at me as Robin pulled out of the driveway. "Not for certain. Robin guessed Darkling would leave himself an out. It was a hell of a gamble to take, but in the end I couldn't not take it. Not after I saw you were still in there."

Of course not. I'd _known_ that, but hearing him say it, that he just couldn't give up on me... I reached around the seat and grabbed a handful of braid, tugging on it. Niko let his head tip to the pull, and leaned back against the seat, relaxing minutely. I could still smell that he was irritated and grumpy, but that was okay. I looked at Robin. "I hope you didn't let Niko drive this thing. If you did, your plate numbers are probably taped to every cop's dashboard citywide."

"He made the store run this morning...why?" Robin asked.

I laughed. "Niko never drives the speed limit. Ever."

"They're recommendations," Niko grumbled. "You can take this curve at sixty-five and not a wobble in this car."

"S-sixty-five!" Robin spluttered, looking guiltily at the sign, which posted the speed-limit at a suggested twenty-five. Robin had been doing a good thirty-five.

Niko laughed, and after a minute I did too. Niko had made it something of an art-form, evading the cops... And when we got pulled over not a mile later, Niko and I were almost in tears from laughing so hard. Robin just looked pissed at being given a six-hundred-dollar ticket for reckless endangerment and driving a good thirty miles over the limit and evading a cop...Niko's usual list, if they ever caught him. And they'd caught the right car this time, but the wrong driver. I'd bailed Niko out of jail before for speeding and high-speed chases, but he'd gotten better about it over the years...and then, well, our life had gone to hell and things like car chases had just stopped being an option.

Though if Robin ever let Niko touch his car keys again...

It turned out Niko and I did not still have an apartment. Niko had flipped his shit over me and the Auphe and Darkling and had totally trashed the place. He'd packed everything and headed off with Robin to search the city. Robin helpfully dropped us off at a nice cheap motel and assured Niko the El Camino we'd bought from him could stay in his car-lot. It was pretty damn generous of him, especially considering Niko had just gotten him a speeding ticket and probably a court-date. Niko checked us in and I poked at the top layers in my dufflebags. I was going to have to dump all my shit out as soon as we got into the room and repack - when Niko packed my stuff, I could never find_ anything_. Sure it was neat as hell, but I liked finding what I wanted!

Niko locked the door and I stripped the cheap counterpane off the queen-sized bed. The sheets had what I hoped were coffee-stains on them, but they were clean. It wasn't a roach-motel hole, but it wasn't the Ritz either. Still, it was clean, the door locked, and there was a tiny kitchenette that had a working microwave and a mini-stovetop and a sink. No fridge though. The bathroom checked out, too. I went and sat on the bed and started dumping my bags out. Niko chuckled but said nothing, sitting on the bed with his back to mine.

"Nik. What did you say to Rafferty?" I wanted to know; Rafferty had been furious.

Niko grunted, shifting back to grumpy. "He tried to tell me I was a horrible abusive monster - which I don't deny - but when he tried to tell me I was manipulating you and using you for my own amusement and it was wrong to keep you squashed under my thumb, I got pissed. I don't _keep_ you like some kind of damn pet! You're my brother, for Chrissake's." The anger was hard and hot in his voice, jumping in the muscles of his back.

I leaned back against him. "And?"

"And I told him he was a high-and-mighty hypocrite to try to tell me that, keeping his cousin like a goddamn dog."

"Fuck, Nik!" That had been cruel, and really explained a lot, I thought. I'd have thrown Niko out, too.

"I know. I was pissed, alright?" Niko didn't sound remorseful. He never did. "Also, newsflash. Rafferty thinks I'm criminally insane."

"He told me I was doing real well for someone with PTSD," I reported.

Niko was silent a moment, and I could feel the tension build in his shoulders. "Fuck. I shoulda punched him in the face," he decided. "I was trying to be nice at the time." He grumbled something else under his breath and half-turned, watching me repack over my shoulder.

"Think you really are crazy?" I asked, after a minute of silence.

"If I am, it's no thanks to you," Niko retorted, but gently. "Hell if I know, Cal, but I think PTSD and a history of self-injury is probably a good indicator of questionable sanity. I'm pretty functional these days, though, so I think I'm doing alright. How about you?"

I grimaced. I did remember when Niko had been not-so-functional and those few short teenage years had not been fun for either of us. And the reminder that quite a few of Niko's scars had been self-inflicted was not welcome at all. I didn't even remember when he'd first started with the big scar on his right arm, but that was the oldest and the thickest and the one that got reopened whenever Niko felt particularly freaked out on bad days. It'd been a long time, though, since he'd felt that rattled. I had a sudden pang of worried dismay. What if...?

"Did you...while I was..."

"While you were gone? No, I didn't," Niko answered, succinctly. "I didn't even think about it. I didn't panic, Cal, I spent a week mad as fucking _hell_. All I could think about was getting you back." He touched the back of my neck, calloused palm cradled against my skin. "What about you?"

"I...I don't know." I wasn't sure. I felt like shit, I kept getting random flashbacks that turned my stomach, but I was...I was here and doing something like normal life and it felt weird. Disconnected, somehow. "I think I'm dissociating? A little? I just feel like...like everything's moving on and it shouldn't."

Niko shook his head. "I don't think you are. I think that's perfectly normal. If anything you do can be normal." He smiled as he said it, and pinched me fondly, just barely enough to bruise.

"Thanks." I finished putting my things in my bags. I zipped them up and dumped them on the floor. I turned to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with Niko, our legs dangling off the foot of the bed. I looked around the cheap motel room, smelled equally cheap sanitizer and cleaners, and it felt familiar. As close to home as it got, really. Home had never been a real place, it had been a car on the road, hotels at night, and Niko beside me. Always beside me. I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve shit. I shivered and didn't know if I wanted to pull away or press closer.

Niko solved the problem by reaching out to cup the back of my neck. I swayed towards him and he kissed my forehead, a dry brush of lips. "We need food for you. Ramen noodles?"

I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. "Yeah. Why not."

I didn't know if I wanted to go with Niko, stay in the room, or get sent on my own errand. Niko decided for me, and that irked for some reason. He'd always done that when I balked but now it was...annoying and I couldn't pin down why. It had never been annoying before. When I'd been little, yeah, but that had been different. I got sent to borrow a teakettle from the motel owner or the motel kitchen, whichever had it. The kitchen did, and I didn't exactly ask...I walked in, picked up the battered old kettle, and walked back out. People never noticed if you acted like you belonged there.

I was heating up the water when Niko came back. I didn't move, staring at the kettle and the mini-stovetop, which had given off a funny smell but hadn't caught fire yet. I didn't feel like doing much. Like it was pointless, almost, moving when I'd done so much wrong. When I'd killed and tortured and enjoyed it. I'd done that, I'd _done_ it and I didn't know what to do now that I'd done it. Who in hell could I apologize to? The werewolf was dead, the mugger was eaten, and George? She wouldn't want to see me. Not after what I'd done to her and her family. God, she'd never forgive me.

"Cal." Niko was closer than I thought. His hand dropped on my shoulder. "Cal. Stop."

"Stop what?" I asked, reflexively. I hadn't been doing anything except thinking. I couldn't stop thinking.

Niko took me by both shoulders. "Cal. Look at me." I tried to, but I ended up looking through him - I'd hurt him too. Darkling had known just what to say to make him angry, violent, and despair of saving me. Niko shook me, sharp and hard and just once. I startled, head snapping back. "Cal. Stop. What did I tell you? What happened was not your fault."

"Niko, how can it _not_ be my fault?_ I_ did those things!" I leaned back, tried to pull away. "I knew just how to do it! I knew everything Darkling needed, and I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to stop him. I _enjoyed_ it, Nik, it was the best goddamn fun of my _life_! Tell me how that's not my fault! Tell me how I'm not guilty when I did it all!"

I paused for breath and Niko bulled in, words clipped, steady, and cool against my shouting. "Without Darkling you never would have done it - he was the one who did it, Cal. He used your body but he was the one who did it. And you are not to blame."

"I am! Niko, _I did it_!" I twisted, trying to throw off his painful grip. It wasn't_ true_ it was my fault. I'd done those things and I'd laughed and reveled in the doing. I hadn't been able to stop it, and part of me hadn't wanted to, and why couldn't Nik see that made me just as guilty as Darkling? Just as worthy of the end Niko had put to Darkling.

"This is not your fault," Niko growled, voice dropping low. Dangerous. I stopped fighting, and tensed. "None of this is your fault. Listen to me. Do not feel guilty, Cal, because you are not to blame. Maybe you wanted it, maybe you enjoyed it, but you knew it was wrong and you regret it and you never would have done it without Darkling forcing you. Remember this: you are not to blame."

His silky quiet tone was just as much a signal as the words were: _remember this_. Dread knotted my stomach, and when he moved I was already ducking my head to avoid the blow. Niko's reminders came with bruises and scars and they always had.

But it wasn't a blow. Niko snatched up my left wrist, twisted me around, and knocking the teapot aside, jammed the heel of my hand against the red-hot eye of the stove.

I think I screamed at that point.

I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I ended up on the floor, clutching at my wrist, staring in shock at the raw semi-circle marks on my hand. Red and angry on the outer edge of my palm and it _hurt_ and I could see the skin missing and the smell was awful, awful. I gagged. Niko grabbed me by my upper arm and hauled me up by main force. In a sudden spurt of panic I kicked him in the shins, but instead of burning me again he shoved my burnt hand under running cold water in the sink. I howled and kicked him and elbowed him damn hard in the ribs, hard enough to make him cough, but after the first shock of exploding agony it didn't hurt as much and almost felt good. I was shaking, all over, and when Niko let go I slid down to the floor again, teeth chattering. He'd burned me, held my hand on the stove, oh God it hurt.

He crouched beside me, and laid a cold wet paper towel over the burn. "It's not your fault. Say it, Cal. It's not your fault."

"I-it's not m-my fault," I managed, teeth clicking together. I felt dizzy, sick, and my hand was throbbing huge and painful and when Niko sat down beside me I slumped against him. "It's not my fault," I whispered, and Niko wrapped his arms around me.

"It's not," Niko agreed, softly.

* * *

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

_Standing in the dark, I can see a shadow_  
_You're the only light that's breaking through the window_  
_There's times I stayed alive for you_  
_There's times I would have died for you_  
_There's times it didn't matter at all_

_Will you help me find the right way out?_  
_Or let me take the wrong way down?_  
_Will you straighten me out?_  
_Or make me take the long way around?_  
_I took the low road in_  
_I'll take the high road out_  
_I'll do whatever it takes to be the mistake you can't live without_

_I'm not gonna give it away_  
_Not gonna let it go just to wake up someday gone, gone_  
_The worst part is looking back and knowing that_  
_I was wrong..._  
-"The High Road," Three Day's Grace  
(_Malum in Se_ Cal's theme)


End file.
